Stars Of Our Lives: Part II
by S0ins0
Summary: The first thing Aja learns in the Children's League, is that it's not all it claims to be. But her own safety is made low priority when she finds classified intel has fallen into the hands of none other than her brother, Krel - who no longer knows her. But with dozens of lives now at risk, Aja is left with no other choice but to find her little brother, before someone else does.
1. 1

**What The Hell I'm In Hell**

**(A/N): WELCOME TO PART TWO OF MY INSANITY *clears throat* STORY - which totally isn't late or anything what are you talking bout and ya'll better get ready for a frickin rollercoaster**

**but it's good to be back, love ya'll and thanks for giving this a shot 3 hope you like it!**

It may be an Orange thing, but instead of having dreams, I began to relive memories.

Most of the time, it was like torture. Night after night would end with me bolting up in a cold sweat, screaming my throat raw until Varvatos came bursting through the door to try calming me down. So many I lost count.

The epitome of PTSD. That's what Steve would've called it.

But there was one memory, one dream, that I held onto. It was the one memory that took place before Psi, back when I was innocent and untouched.

The memory starts with Krel and I sitting in the principal's office at the academy. It was right after we'd turned our computer class into a rave and were now awaiting our punishment. I was sitting upside down in my chair, Krel helping me hold my water bottle as I attempted drinking from it in that position.

When the vice principle finally entered the room, she gave us a stern glare. "You do realize we could expel you for this," She snapped. "Right?"

Krel snorted. "If you could expel us, you would've done it three months ago when we set the gym on fire."

Her face colored with rage. "So that _was_ you!"

"Yes," I sat up. "But it's not like you can prove it."

I white-knuckled that dream. The last thing I had left of that life. Of the person I used to be. Of the little brother I used to have.

But no matter how tight I held to it, nothing was any easier.

The League had me on a plane headed to LA, California not three hours after we'd sent Krel away. It was like throwing a light switch, how suddenly I was thrown into the life they had carefully plotted for me.

The first and most important thing they had in store was training. In every way imaginable. Training, food, training, food, sleep, repeat. That was the routine. In a way I was excited for it. I was ready to learn how to defend myself - more than that, I wanted to. But that all ended when I realized it wasn't about defense. It was about offense.

Hand to hand combat was one of the first ones I learned. How to shatter someone's knee with my foot. How to dislocate their shoulder. How to put them in a strangling hold long enough to render them unconscious.

The next was learning different codes and symbols. How to handle the equipment the League allowed us to use. How to contact by radio. How to _build_ a radio. Code words. The basis of how Ops run. And basic survival skills.

Next was how to handle different weapons. Guns. Knives. How to shoot. Where to cut. How to tackle. When to disarm. And a new device Varvatos was allowed to train me with.

"It is known as a serrator," He said. "It is a recent development in warfare. A mixture of weapons."

It looked like a steel handgun, but with more details. More notches and divots, like there was armor clad around it. When Varvatos pulled down a certain notch, the armor unwound itself and locked into a straight line forward, forming a sword.

He eased it into my hands, letting me run my fingers along the steel. "Lively."

"Careful, princeling," He said. "This weapon is known as one of the most lethal."

How ironic, I thought. So am I.

At least, that's how the League saw me.

They were terribly careful with the programs I trained with, giving me dozens of instructors and a vast variety of classes. Everyday started early and ended late. Every meal was derived from a nutritionist. Everything I did, everything I heard, was so delicately planned.

I wasn't Aja Tarron to them. I wasn't even a child. I was just the latest, lethal weapon for them to turn into a brain washing, memory wiping machine.

_I was their puppet on a damn string_, I'd hear Krel's voice say. _And there was nothing I could do about it._

That was the one thing I couldn't understand about that place. Why call yourselves the Children's League, if you're only going to pretend to help children?

For the first week or so, I didn't see much of the other kids. They weren't putting me on one single team, instead planning to move me around to whatever Op demanded the use of an Orange the most. The kids I did see would only cast wary glares at me. Whispering as I passed or staring from afar during meals.

After what I did to Lena, their oh-so-powerful Orange, none of them dared come any closer.

It was better that way.

I was given my own room, which was nice, I guess. I wasn't in the mood to be around anyone else for a long time. And nobody was willing to take a monster as a roommate.

The room was cold. Cramped. And dark. Only a bed and a dresser sat on the bleached tiles. I laid on the scratchy sheets and cried myself to sleep my first night. I felt like I was suffocating. Like an invisible weight was crushing into my chest. It made me want to vomit, just to get the feeling out of me.

The whole building felt like a prison, even though it more resembled a giant boarding school. The lower floors were dedicated to housing the children. The basement held a large gym for training. And the upper floors housed the agents, along with the operations they conducted.

But there was no going outside. No opening windows. No flexibility, period. A child did not going anywhere without permission. A child did not go anywhere without an agent. Should they try, it would result in immediate lockdown.

The one taste of freedom I could hold onto was when Zadra and Varvatos would sneak me up to the roof. We'd sit up there for hours, them in the deck chairs and me dangling my feet over the edge. Looking at the stars just like we used to.

I'd gaze up at the endless sky with what seemed like the last of my strength, and remind myself that the three other Tarrons are out there somewhere, looking up at the same stars. And I wouldn't feel so alone.

Which is funny when you think about it, since I was almost never alone.

Varvatos and Zadra were with me every second they could be, for one. And though seeing them made things easier, there wasn't much to say to them. There was so much catching up to do, but so much hesitation. Loving them was easy. But truly trusting them?

That was anything but.

I felt so utterly isolated. There was no one to trust - no one to turn to. Every promise the League gave bled into lies. My life wasn't even my own anymore. It belonged to a building full of agents that could care less about me as long as I could scramble someone's mind every other Tuesday. I had lost everything I'd ever known and was left completely on my own.

I was barely through my second week of training when I felt ready to break.

I was sitting on the edge of the mats, playing with spare piece of trash that had fallen from the garbage been a few feet from me. My current instructor, Bagdwella, was distracted with another student and I was given the leisure of having a few moments of peace. But even then it was full of the static screaming in my mind. All I could do was sit and wallow, tearing the gum wrappers apart again and again, until they all looked like me.

I didn't see the battery at first. It was tucked against the side of the mat as though someone had tried throwing it into the bin, but missed. I picked it off the ground, rolling it between my fingers. The image of Eli and his homemade lighter went through my mind. They way Krel had bickered with him that whole day. The ways Steve's eyes had looked in the firelight.

Tears came without my permission. Not loud sobs. Just quiet sniffles everyone was too distracted to notice.

Words could not describe what it felt like to miss them. Like a whole part of me was gone. Like I'd been gutted and left to rot here on my own. I felt so alone and so lost. My family was gone, they had been for a long time. But now, my 'almost' family was gone too.

I didn't even know what happened to them. They could be lying face down in a ditch for all I knew. The hope of finding them again seemed pointless and torturous. But I just couldn't _stop_.

Taking the remains of the gum wrapper, I began placing them around the battery the way I'd seen Eli do it. I was just trying to piece that memory together. As if, somehow, putting that together would keep me together.

God, I wished more than anything I had my little brother back. Even just for a moment, just to give him a proper goodbye. To make sure he was safe. To . . . to . . .

My tears dripped over the wrapper, near soaking it as I moved it around. The little spark of hope left my chest, making my insides raw all over again. Doing this would accomplish nothing. The battery was probably dead anyway.

Then a spark snapped at the end of my fingers. A hot sting went through my hand. And I dropped the battery. The little flame around the wrapper shriveled for a moment, making me think it would just burn out. But then the covering of the mat began to curl and melt, the fire growing right before my eyes.

Okay, maybe it's not dead.

"Uh . . ." I tried calling over my shoulder, watching the fire spread across the mat, even onto the carpet. Slow, and yet, not slow at all. God, it smelled _awful_. "Guys?"

"Tarron!" An agent from across the room stomped towards me. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Not on purpose anyway.

The flames licked up the walls, spreading still over the mats and gushing heat into the room. One of the girls behind me screamed. A young boy burst into tears and bolted for the exit. Most of the kids followed him.

The agents in the room managed to grab a few fire extinguishers and get it under control. But some poor kid had still pulled the fire alarm so the entire building was evacuated anyway. When the agents cornered me out in the open, a few were almost vibrating with rage. But the one at the very front was wearing a pleasantly surprised grin.

Zeron.

He'd been watching me since I got here. The moment that man laid his blond eyes on me, my skin began to crawl. That bastard tortured my brother. I wanted to make him bleed for it. That damn Calm Control device was the only thing that kept me from doing it.

He was there to greet me the night I arrived, with that shameless smile that made me want to go for his throat. He was always hanging around the corner. Always just in view of the locker room. His eyes always on my back in the atrium.

He was waiting for the perfect moment to corner me, what for, I had no idea. But he'd finally found his moment.

"Against the wall, Tarron," He raised an eyebrow, daring me to defy. "Let's just do this the easy way."

I blew a hot breath out of my nose, curling my hands into fists. "Fine," I replied. "I have nothing to hide."

Putting my palms against the concrete wall, Bagdwella came forward to frisk me for a lighter. Of course, she didn't find one.

"Then how the hell did she start the fire!" A man threw up his hands.

"Here," Zeron stepped forward and grabbed my arm, making sure to twist it enough to make me wince. "Why don't I bring her down to my office for a few questions?" He was already pulling towards the entrance. "Then we can sort this out -"

Zeron's hand was thrown off my arm in a split second, almost knocking me off my feet from the force. I turned back to see Varvatos throw Zeron several feet to the left, Zadra's hands going around my shoulders as I watched.

"Do not lay your hands on Varvatos's charge," Varvatos growled.

Zeron's pleasant facade fell, a glare showing through.

"Do not lay your hands on _me_," He spat back. "It is standard procedure."

"Aja has done nothing to provoke any kind of action," Zadra said, standing tall behind me. "She is under our care. We will attend to her needs for this situation here on."

"That's almost laughable," He sneered. "Your precious baby set our gymnasium a blaze -"

"Oh really?" I folded my arms. "Why don't you prove it?"

Zeron went very still.

Behind me, Zadra raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any proof to support your accusations?"

Zeron's face went the same shade my vice principal's had, all those years ago. I grinned.

"Then step away from Varvatos's charge," Varvatos snarled. "Or Varvatos will hang you by your thumbs!"

"Watch your tone, _old man_," Zeron snapped. "I don't care how tight you swaddle her, she still applies to the rules. A ticking time-bomb like her should apply to more rules if you ask me."

Zadra narrowed her eyes. Her fingers dug into my shoulders. "Need I remind you, Aja is a _child_. Do you have a problem with treating her as such?"

An unspoken threat went between them.

He regained his composure as quick as he'd lost it. "Of course not," He said. "The fires in the basement are under control. Now I would like to get back to our training session instead of wasting more time than we already have."

He grabbed me again on the way back to the gym, pulling me ahead of the others and around a corner.

"You won't have your babysitters around forever," He hissed in my ear. Then he shoved passed me and disappeared down the stairs.

I stared blankly after him for a moment. What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean?

From then on, Zadra and Varvatos kept a close eye on me. Staying to watch as we trained. Coming to see me between classes. Waiting for me outside the locker room. It made me feel like a bug under a microscope. Like I had two extra shadows haunting me.

It wasn't until several days later that I realized why they were doing it.

That night, I awoke to my bedroom door opening, clicking and sliding against the door jam. It was enough to jostle me awake, the light pouring in from the hallway blinding me for a second.

Squinting, I sat up on the sheets, seeing someone sitting at the edge of my bed. Varvatos. But it was Zeron standing in the doorway. He was . . . smiling?

The second his eyes landed on Varvatos, the color in his face changed. First out of fear, then out of rage. As though he'd been outsmarted.

"Varvatos?" I blinked at him. "What are you - how long have you -" I looked at the alarm clock on my dresser. It was three in the morning.

I glared back at Zeron. "What are you doing here?"

"Leaving," Varvatos's voice was dark and slow as he rose to his feet. "Isn't that right, agent?"

Zeron took several measured breaths, as though it was taking all the strength in the world to keep his composure. When he turned his eyes on me, the same threat was still there. _You won't have your babysitters forever_.

"Wrong room," He said. "My mistake." Then turned, and slammed the door behind him.

"What - Varvatos -?" I shook my head several times to clear it. "Were you sitting in my room? How long have you been _in_ here -"

"Aja, lay back," He pressed a rough hand to my shoulder, kneeling at my bedside as I went down. "Return to your rest. We can discuss this at a later time."

"I want to discuss it now," I reached out to grab his wrist. "What were you doing in my room? _Why_ are you in my room? Why was Zeron -"

"Later, my princess," He pulled the blanket over my shoulder. "Rest now. You will need it."

The next night, I laid awake, watching the clock as I waited. It was near midnight when I heard Varvatos creep in, lowering himself on the edge of my bed. Cocking his gun. And then . . . nothing. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He didn't even turn back to look at me, keeping his body facing the door.

He was watching. Waiting. Varvatos had been a bodyguard before, I knew that. But I never thought I would be the one who needed guarding.

I couldn't sleep the rest of that night, my mind far too busy trying to piece together what exactly Zeron wanted with me.

It was just as September was coming to an end that Varvatos and Zadra didn't show up to breakfast. Or lunch.

Around noon, I began to panic, remembering what had happened to Krel last time I thought not to worry about these kinds of things.

"Don't worry," Zeron lowered himself into the seat across from me in the atrium. "Your babysitters got called to an emergency Op. They will return later."

"What?" I blinked. "When?"

"Later," His grin became cold and cruel. "Why? Worried something might happen?"

I dug my fingernails into palms, fighting his icy eyes with the heat growing in my chest. "I'm not worried at all."

Zeron oversaw my training that afternoon, playing referee for the sparring matches between everyone in my age group. But when it was my turn, he came forward to arm my opponent with a baton.

"It's the standard weapon for PSFs," He said. "You should know how to defend against it."

I swallowed, looking at the long, black stick and trying not to see the place I'd become so acquainted with those things. Trying not to feel the permanent marks they'd left on me.

"Don't I get a weapon?" I asked. "Isn't that fair?"

"Life isn't fair," He winked. "Begin."

I had to swallow a second time when I turned back, bile gathering in my throat. But I lifted my chin and I straightened my back, just the way Mama used to. And I took on my opponent full force.

I wasn't giving him the satisfaction of seeing me back down.

I could block and hit just fine, but against the clear advantage, it was only a matter of time before the girl had knocked me onto the mats, slamming the baton against me again and again.

I started seeing the walls of Thurmond. Feeling the cold uniforms. Seeing the kids I knew there and their hollowed out faces. I heard the PSFs laughter as they beat against me for fun. The ridge between my brows was on fire.

"Stop!" I finally cried, throwing up a hand towards her. Blood was gushing from my nose and mouth, my entire body coated in sweat. "Stop - I'm done," I panted. "I'm done."

She threw a questioning glance at Zeron. He only gave her a single nod. And she wound the baton back for another blow.

I cried out as she cracked it against me, trying to writhe away from her. Trying to curl up to protect myself, the way I had so many times before. My vision kept going back between Thurmond and the gym, bouncing from face to face and pain to pain until I didn't know what was real and what wasn't. It was like I was drowning in my own mind.

Then the heat in my chest exploded.

"STOP!"

Sweeping her legs out from under her, I knocked her to the ground and twisted the baton out of her hands. It was a satisfying blast of energy that gave me the power to slam it into her. To finally watch someone else shudder under the force. Watch someone else's nose gush blood into their mouth. Watch someone else writhe to protect themselves.

I stopped, arm freezing in the air mid-strike. So this is what it feels like, I thought. This is what it feels like to be Kubritz.

My eyes darted to Zeron, a cruel yet proud smile on his face. He gave me the same nod.

I threw the baton down, letting it slap against the mats. And I stomped out of the gym.

I skipped dinner that night, my stomach too tied in knots to hold anything. I laid on my bed as I stared at the ceiling, my head full of static and my body covered with the familiar ache of fresh bruises.

_The League is not Thurmond_, Zadra had said.

Oh, like hell it's not.

We're told what to wear. When to eat. Where to sleep. How to work. All for the benefit of those who don't even see us as people.

Zeron opened the door before he knocked. "I noticed you weren't at dinner," He said. "Thought I'd come check on you."

I turned my head to look at him for a second. Then I glared back at the ceiling. "I'm fine."

He kicked the door shut behind him. I tried my very best not to flinch. Whatever he could give, I could take. He had no idea what I could handle.

"Quite the show you put on today," He said. "Didn't know you had a dramatic flare, _Tarron_."

Huh. When was the last time I'd heard my name said like it was a slur?

Oh, yeah.

"You're brother sure didn't have one."

I bolted up, eyes flashing and nostrils flared. I had to clench my hands in the sheets to keep from strangling him. One day, I promised myself. One day I'll make him pay. For everything.

"What do you want?" I snapped. "I'm done for the day."

"We decide when you're done," He made a show of the Calm Control device in his hand. "But this isn't about that."

"Get to the point."

"You know something I don't," He said. "And you're going to tell me it."

I curled my lip up at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Krel Tarron," He tilted his head at me, almost innocently. "I want to know where he is."

Something inside me went cold. I felt my nails bruising my palms through the sheet. "I don't know where he is."

"Is that so -" He reached for me but I ripped away, stepping off the bed and away from him.

"Don't touch me," I barked. "I don't know where he is. Goblins were there when we got picked up. They got him, not me." I swallowed. "He's gone, alright?"

"Yes," He twisted the device between his fingers. "You may have everyone else fooled with that story, but I've been paying attention. The agents that picked you up took a detour to a hospital the League uses. And if it wasn't for you, it must've been for him."

I held my voice steady. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You let him walk away," Zeron's eyes flared. "But you wouldn't have without keeping track of him somehow."

"He's _gone_," I spat back. "I don't know where he is. I don't even know if he's _alive_." I turned towards the door. "Just leave me alone."

His hand caught my arm, yanking me away from the open door. "You think you're getting away that easy?"

"Let go of me," I growled.

"Or what?" He pulled me flush against him, twisting the bruised flesh of my arm to make me wince. "What will you do, princess? No one's puppy guarding you now."

I whipped around, slamming my fist into his jaw and then shoving my knee into his side. He cried out, but recovered faster than I was prepared for. Suddenly, my back was slammed against the wall, his hands pinning my wrists on either sides of my head.

"You shouldn't have done that," He growled.

"Get off me!"

With a grunt, I brought my knee up and drove my foot between his legs. He howled, falling back against the wall.

"You . . ." He grabbed me around the middle before I could make it out the door, "little _bitch_."

I kicked wildly, screaming for someone to hear but they were all down in the atrium. He'd chosen the perfect moment to get me alone. The thought alone made me rigid with fear.

The struggle ended when he finally locked his elbow around my throat and clamped me against him, cutting off my air more and more with each passing second.

"You really think you can best me?" He breathed in my ear. "You're nothing but a child."

I jerked against his hold. "A child who could command you to blow your head right off your shoulders."

"Go ahead, try it," He laughed against the shell of my ear. "I dare you."

Heat spread through my chest. "I don't need to." And I rammed my elbow in his jaw.

The second he released me, I spun on my heel and roundhouse kicked him the same way I had kicked Seamus. It was enough to knock him onto his side.

I almost thought I'd won.

But then he reached for the Calm Control in his pocket and White Noise sliced across my brain. I dropped to my knees, clamping my hands over my ears as I fought the urge to vomit. When it finally stopped, Zeron was gripping a fistful of my hair, forcing my head back to look at him.

"Face it," He grinned. "Here, I own you."

I trembled with rage. "No one owns me."

He wrenched me to my feet, forcing me forward without any warning, dragging me out into the hall the way PSFs used to. Both arms twisted behind my back.

"We'll see about that," He hissed.

He forced me down the stairs into the basement, his painful grip the only thing holding me up as I tripped over my feet. He brought me behind the gym, through locked closet doors, to some hidden elevator. And we descended another floor down.

A secret basement. The one Krel had told me about.

A cold stab of fear went through me. I was too valuable to experiment with. But that didn't make me invincible. Down here, he could do anything to me.

Once again, I was helpless.

He threw me into a spare room, lit up in blue from the fluorescent lights. My back hit one of the tables, covered in tools and medical supplies - all of which toppled onto me as it came crashing down.

Zeron slammed the door shut as he grinned down at me. I heard the click of a dead bolt coming into place. I swallowed.

"Do you know what we do to kids here?" He laughed, throwing out his arms. "This place? This is the place no one can hear you scream."

My chest was heaving, tightening with terror. "What do you want from me?"

"Where," His voice was guttural, "is Krel?"

I was sweating. My hands were shaking. "I don't know."

"You're lying."

I narrowed my eyes. "Prove it."

He grabbed at the back of my hair again, but I caught his wrist first, twisting it before landing a hard kick into his stomach. I drew back for a punch, then White Noise forced me to crumple to the floor. A heavy boot hit my ribs, knocking the wind from my lungs as barbed wire tore through my head.

When it finally stopped, I was laying flat on my back and I could barely breathe. Blood was pooling in my ears, dripping down the corners of my mouth. I was drenched in sweat now, gasping at the air with my eyes closed.

Zeron put his knee on my chest. "Where is he?"

"I . . . don't . . . know," I panted.

"That's a lie!"

More White Noise. I arched my back, screaming to try and cover the sound with my own. I screamed for the agents to hear. For the other kids. For someone - _anyone_ to help. But all that came from it was me choking on my own blood.

_You're alone_, Seamus's voice hissed at me. _And you always will be._

It ended, and I went limp again, gasping and twitching from the pain.

"Now tell me," His hand went against my forehead, driving my skull into the bleached tiles. "Where _is he?_ Where did you send him?"

God, the ridge between my brows was on fire.

"Why . . ." I gasped. "Do you . . . care?"

"Call it a personal project," He sneered. "But you should really be more concerned about yourself. If you tell me one more lie -"

"I'm . . . not . . . lying."

I guess technically I wasn't. Zeron was halfway right when he said we wouldn't let Krel go without tracking him somehow. It was something in the backpack, Zadra called it a Chatter. It worked like a cellphone but it didn't send up a signal unless Krel wanted it to. Twice now, he had. Letting us know where he was and that he was okay. Traces of the signal were then instantly erased.

I didn't know where he was _exactly_. But I did know about eight days ago he was somewhere in Virginia.

Zeron would have to resurrect my cold, dead body if he wanted that information.

The White Noise came back on, the speaker teasing against my ear as I writhed. I screamed and kicked, desperately trying to get out from under him. But I was trapped. Raw and hollow inside.

I was _exhausted_.

"One more lie, Tarron," He reached over me, grabbing a scalpel from the many surgical tools scattered across the floor. "And I'll cut you."

I pinned my lips together, tears trailing down the sides of my face as I squeezed my eyes shut. I'd never thought about this happening. I'd never thought what to do if it did.

"Tell me where he is!"

"No!" I screamed back. "Get off me! Get away from me!"

"You know!" He brought the scalpel to my collar bone, dragging it in a line on the skin. Something hot and red seeped from there. "Tell me!"

"No!"

"Do it!"

"No!" I arched my back, clawing against him. "Stop it! Get _off!"_

He adjusted his hold on me, straddling my stomach with the bloody scalpel discarded beside us.

"I'm not going anywhere," He spat. "Until you tell me where that brat is. I know you know!"

"You don't know anything!" I screamed. "Get the hell away from me!"

"Tell me!"

"No!"

The White Noise switched back on and the world was drowned in it. By the time he turned it off again, it felt like I was underwater. I could barely even hear his voice. I could barely see anything other than those god awful fluorescent lights.

The thing that brought me back was the feeling of my legs being forced apart. I struggled, trying to pull my knees to my chest and kick him away, but Zeron had already rammed his hips between them, hard enough to jostle me.

My hands slammed into his chest, trying to throw him off me, but he was too heavy. I was too tired. My arms were trembling from the effort. Meanwhile, he began rubbing the speaker in circles against the shell of my ear.

"This doesn't have to get ugly."

"Believe me," I rasped. "This got ugly a while ago."

_Not again_, my mind screamed. _Not again not again not again notagainnotagainnotagain_

"This can all end right now," He pushed harder against me, a stab of pain coming from the bruising across my core. "All I need is a location."

I tore at his hold, arching my back as my collar bone stung cold. "Go . . . to . . . _hell_."

"We're already there," He grinned. "Now, you have one last chance. Tell me where he is."

My eyes shot up to meet his, all the fury inside me flashing in them. _"Never."_

And he smiled.

The White Noise exploded in my head like a bomb, shrapnel tearing through my ears. My entire body went numb to everything else, the vague knowledge of my body moving shoved to the back of my mind. At least what was left of it.

I felt his body weight pressing me down till I thought I would suffocate. I felt the pain in my collar seep up to the surface. I felt a hard tug on the waistband of my pants. And then -

The pressure was gone.

All the weight crushing me was lifted - thrown. Suddenly I could breathe. I could move. It took me until I opened my sticky eyelids that I realized the White Noise had been cut off just as quickly.

The pain was a raw pulse inside me as I sat up, my ears slowly registering the sound of crashing. Shouting. Skin pounding against skin. I pried myself up on my elbows, my chest heaving as my eyes finally adjusted.

". . . Varvatos?" I croaked.

He was on top of Zeron, punching him. Crushing him. Tables crashing. Glass shattering. Blood spurting across the tiles. Shouts that made my ears ring more than they already did.

"- touch Varvatos's granddaughter again and Varvatos will hang you from a noose of your own entrails!"

Yep, definitely Varvatos.

But wasn't he supposed to be . . . somewhere else?

Someone was touching me. Touching my face. I flinched away.

Something warm wrapped around me. The grinding noise faded to nothing in the background. The cold, bleached floor fell away from me. I saw Zadra's face, her eyes and her mouth moving. But I couldn't hear what she said.

Then she carried me away.

**(A/N): let me know if ya'll have thoughts, i love hearing them!**


	2. 2

**Runs In The Blood**

I never closed my eyes. I never opened them again.

I never went to sleep. I never woke up.

It was some fuzzy in between state that choked me like water. Colors were smeared. The only sound was the painful buzzing White Noise always leaves behind. And yet, a steady warmth stayed around me.

There were blank moments of time, kind of like when you stop paying attention during a conversation and only catch snippets of it. I saw the walls of the gym, even the large charred spot in the left corner. Then I saw the walls of a room I didn't recognize - the rooms the agents had.

I felt a soft bed below me. Heard a soft voice rise up above the static. My chest stung as I watched hands bandage the cut there. My head throbbed and my body ached. But little by little, I started making out words.

" . . . keep your eyes . . . lay still . . . okay I . . . deep breath and . . ."

That was Zadra's voice.

It was like pushing through a wall of glass to get to my senses. To feel my limbs sprawled out and my head propped up on something. To taste cool water and hear gentle words, carefully coaxing me up from the waves.

" . . . will be alright . . . Aja, can you hear . . . just rest . . . "

". . . Zadra?" Why did my mouth feel like sandpaper?

". . . Here," Her face faded in and out of focus. "Can . . . hear me now?"

A light came on, setting fire to the back of my eyes. I flinched away from it, and it quickly vanished.

"You . . . in shock . . . princess."

That was Varvatos's voice.

"Only . . . breathe."

In and out. In and out. The air felt cool and fresh. But everything else felt warm and soft. My chest went up and down, the cut over it stinging a little more each time. But it was worth it to have the fog cleared from my head.

_It's like waking up under water_, Claire's voice said to me, the day she explained what it was like to be her. _And you can't breathe or move or think, you just have to wait for yourself to float to the surface. And . . . and it hurts_.

I wondered where Claire was now. I wondered if she missed me. If any of them did.

"Varvatos?" His face came into focus, sitting with his cane at the bedside. "Zadra? What - you're not supposed to be -"

"We returned early," Zadra said. Her voice was clear this time.

"What happened?" I croaked. "Why did he -?"

A sting went across my forehead, the ridge drawn across it suddenly blazing with heat. I cut myself off with a hiss and brought a protective hand to the spot.

"Ice," I murmured.

"What?"

I bit my lip, tears coming. I brought a second hand to my forehead. "Ice," I repeated. "Please . . . it hurts . . ."

The feeling was overwhelming, crashing like waves. I could almost feel the metal tip again. The cold hands of the PSFs as they held me down. The darkness of the room. The crack of the baton. The _burning_ -

I rasped at the air, trying to get my breathing under control. A soft, breathy cry pulled from my throat, both hands still clutching my forehead. Then something cold touched me and it was enough for me to pull away.

It wasn't ice, but it was wet and it was cold. It would do.

It almost felt like an ice pack. The kind Seamus used to give me all the time. The kind we used at Trollmarket.

And for one moment, holding the makeshift ice pack against my forehead, I imagined I was back at Trollmarket. Under the neon lights and the rickety bunks. With Steve sitting beside me, Eli strewn out on the opposite bed, and Krel sitting cross legged on the rug between us as he fiddled with some gadget. And it was warm and whole and perfect.

But it wasn't real.

The second I opened my eyes, I was faced with the world of the League again. Sterile tiles. White walls. Fluorescent lights. Threadbare carpet.

The thing in my hand was a wet rag. I kept it firmly against my scar as I sat up. I was lying in Zadra's bed, in her plain room. There was a thick bandage across my chest and dried blood coating my ears.

"Do you remember what happened, Aja?" Zadra asked.

"Yes," I pushed the rag harder against my forehead. "How are you here? Why did you come back?"

"We knew what would happen if we left you to your own with Zeron," Varvatos said. "We came for you."

"Well you came twenty minutes too late."

The beat of silence that followed pounded like a sledgehammer. Good.

"Zeron was looking for Krel," I said, sitting up on the sheets. "I want to know why."

"Aja, lay down -"

"I'm fine," I snapped. "I can handle White Noise. What does Zeron want with Krel?"

"Princeling, your rest is most important -"

"You said I could be happy here," I threw at them. "You said the League wasn't Thurmond. But parts of it are no different and you know it. Why did you lie to me?"

They fell silent, exchanging an uneasy glance - a mixture of guilt and fear. It made me wonder how in the hell we ended up in this mess.

Varvatos hung his head when he spoke. "Varvatos wishes things were different -"

"Well they're not," Angry tears gathered in my eyes. "Now tell me what that bastard wants with my brother."

"Aja -"

"Vex," Zadra whispered. "She deserves to know."

"She is only a child."

"When will you realize that keeping me ignorant doesn't make me innocent?" I spat. "It only makes me vulnerable. So stop protecting something that is no longer there."

It was hard to describe the look in their eyes. So much history. So much pain and regret. So many secrets that had rotted between us. But somewhere, almost hidden, there was still hope.

"I joined the League," I said, "I let my brother - my entire _family_ go, because I want to bring an end to this chaos. But all I am is trapped and targeted. The least you can do is tell me why."

Zadra eased out a sigh. "Zeron has not always sided with the League. He used to work as a troll; one of the very first in the program."

Why am I not surprised?

"His reputation preceded him into the League," Varvatos said. "He was recruited to bring some stability back to the nation, as were all of the first agents. But he had different ideas of how to do it."

I gave a humorless laugh.

"The League began as something good," Zadra said. "As more than just a resistance, but as a place of refuge. Your parents fought to keep it that way."

I perked up. "They did?"

"Your parents were involved very early on," Varvatos said. "Do you not remember?"

"I guess I just . . . haven't thought about it in so long."

"Fialkov and Coranda believed the League could truly be the _Children's_ League. They believed there was a way to bring all this madness to an end, and the agents here could pioneer it."

"What happened?"

"Zeron was not the only one with unprecedented ideas," Varvatos's voice became grave. "Once they became popular, there was no way of undoing the damage. Your parents were forced out of the League for standing against it, and then . . . and then betrayed as they tried to flee."

I stared at the wall before me. I waited for the rage, the blinding, frustrating, fiery rage to take over my chest. But it didn't. I was only numb.

"But the League is not the only one that wanted your mother and father gone," Zadra said after a moment. "Your parents knew Morando, when he was still a general."

I nodded. I'd known him too.

"They threatened to take what was happening to the UN," I said, remembering what Krel had told me. "To say that it was against human rights."

Zadra gave me a small, yet proud smile. "They still are threatening that."

I blinked. "What?"

Varvatos laughed gently. "Do you think they have been doing nothing but twiddling their thumbs all these years?"

"They never stopped fighting," Zadra laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Just like you never did."

A light laugh burst from my throat. Tears were suddenly in my eyes. They - they were really out there. Still trying to protect us. To show the world what Psi had done to us.

"But that is not all," Zadra shifted on the bed. "Morando has been very careful about maneuvering them, keeping them infamous with the public and track of their children."

That's when it clicked.

"Morando is involved with the League," I said. "To keep an eye on Krel and I. To use us to get to Mama and Papa."

"Saying there are agents involved with Morando would be a more accurate statement," Varvatos replied. "Zeron was one of the first to become double sided."

"That's why he wants us," I breathed. "That's why he hurts us."

"What Zeron wants is the reward money he will get when he turns you over to Morando."

A twist of fear went inside me. I thought back to all the nights Varvatos had come to guard my room.

Oh.

"Besides you," I asked. "What's stopping him?"

"You are too valuable for the League not to miss," Zadra explained. "Very few of the agents are involved in Morando's deal. If our best Orange should go missing, it would compromise many secrets they have fought to keep."

"What about Krel?"

"Zeron was unwilling to take the risk of making him disappear until Morando offered the reward money several weeks before your rescue," Varvatos leaned both hands on his cane. "Following our instincts, we refused to let Krel anywhere unsupervised."

"Did he know all this?" I asked. "Did he know Morando was bargaining for our lives?"

"He understood Zeron was one of many people using him to get to your parents," Zadra said. "And he knew there was more danger in leaving the League then staying. But once the two of you were reunited, he was willing to take the risk."

"I'm lucky he did," I said. "Or Zeron would've had us both. And then Morando -"

"Morando will not have his way with you," Varvatos said. "We will not allow it."

"How?" I asked. "You can't babysit me forever."

"No," Zadra said. "But we can disarm him."

"What?"

"For Zeron to bring you into that basement and torture you was compromising," She said. "He revealed a side of the League to a very valuable Psi child, leaking sensitive information into an insecure environment."

Varvatos grinned. "We will take his thumbs for it."

"And his jurisdiction," Zadra added. "He no longer has the League's trust, therefore, is no longer permitted to carry Calm Control should he use it to intentionally harm you."

"He will not touch you again, my princess."

I looked down, raising the rag to my forehead. But it had already gone warm.

"I want to bring an end to this," I said. "I want to help other kids like me, I always have."

"And you can here," Zadra said. "The League is not the place of refuge it claims to be. We did coat the truth that day, after all you had been through, we thought it best. But you still have power here. There is still a good fight to be won."

"You do not have to trust us," Varvatos said, his eyes piercingly sincere. "We only ask that you stay."

I thought back to when Krel and I had first learned about the League. How much hope we'd had then. Mama and Papa had hope for the League too. Maybe a part of them still did - and maybe a part of me still did too.

Or maybe it wasn't hope for the League, maybe it was hope for me. Hope to finally end all the pain Psi had brought this world. To get kids out of camps. To never have to run or hide again. Maybe I could do it. Maybe I could continue the fight they started.

Then maybe I could see them again.

"Okay," I whispered. "Okay."


	3. 3

**Sir That's My Emotional Support Nerd**

You could cut the tension at breakfast the next morning with a knife.

Zeron was banged and bruised, cuts across his face as he gave a short reply to some kid across the atrium. He'd been in a bad mood all morning, snapping at kids and throwing death threats at me with his eyes. I threw them right back. Without White Noise, he was nothing more than an overgrown bully.

Varvatos and Zadra had taken their places beside me as always, viciously ignoring Zeron's presence. But that didn't stop the occasional glares. Or rumors.

News that Zeron had been bumped down the ranks was already spreading like wildfire. And the practically visible tension radiating off all of us - plus the fact that Zeron looked as though he'd been put through a shredder - was not helping.

It was the topic of almost every conversation. Each time I rounded a corner, all the kids around would go quiet, pretending not to watch as they eagerly waited for me to leave. Same thing when I entered the locker room.

In between classes I was able to catch a few of their theories. That I'd mind melded Zeron into disarming. That Varvatos had tortured Zeron into giving up his authority. Even that Zeron had been busted for being the abusive asshole he was - hence the very obvious cut across my chest.

It was easy and difficult to keep the truth to myself. Easy because it was no one's business but my own. Difficult because now everyone wanted it to be their business.

Thankfully, no had noticed that I'd slept in Zadra's room that night. Both her and Varvatos agreed it would be safest if I stayed there permanently.

Despite the rumors, endless glaring from Zeron, and the feeling of being haunted by two shadows, I felt good at dinner. Even if I was just a giant spectacle here, even if I was on my own, things were about to get a little better. And maybe I could end up doing some good.

For the first time in so long, I had a string of hope to hold onto.

I was just about finished when I heard my name being called - from somewhere across the atrium. I immediately turned at the sound, almost questioning if I'd even heard them right. None of the others kids dared near me. Let alone screaming my name across the room.

"Hey Aja! Over here! Aja Tarron!"

But there it was again. I craned my neck around the crowd of kids blocking the sound. They seemed to be stopping whoever it was from approaching, some even snickering as they did it. Others looked genuinely concerned, continuing to shush the offender.

"Would you stop messing around?" One boy hissed. "This is stupid! Leave her alone!"

I rolled my eyes, turning back to my tray and then standing to take care of it. I was done anyway. No need to stay with these kids for any longer than I had to.

"Don't go to the roof," Zadra said, shooting me a side look.

"Why not?" I called back.

"Because I said so."

"Okay."

So I headed up to the roof, dumping the remnants on my tray in the large garbage bins on the way. I could still hear whoever it was continue to yell for me as I reached the doors, the shushing and laughing escalating. Even one of the agents came over to see what the commotion was.

I shook off the growing blush. That boy was right, this was stupid.

I had one foot out the door when something other than my name was called.

"Angel! Ninja-kicking angel!"

I froze.

Oh my God.

I whipped around, I barreling back towards the crowd. "Who said that?" I demanded.

"Over here, ninja-kicking angel!"

Kids scattered back, parting to reveal the small body they were shielding. All the breath was knocked from my lungs. Everything was frozen all over again. It - It couldn't be -

Tears blurred in my eyes. "Eli?"

His glasses were gone. His hair had grown long enough to hang in his eyes. And he was so terribly skinny. But when he saw me, his eyes were still just as bright as they've always been.

"Hey, ninja-kicking angel."

"Eli!" I cried, flying towards him.

My arms latched around him, spinning us until his toes lifted right off the floor. His boney little arms clung around my neck, his glasses-less face buried in my hair.

Just like that, the eyes of every other human being in the atrium were on us. The heartless, soulless Orange - who never touched anyone unless it was for a beat down - was _hugging_ someone. And that someone was hugging _back_.

They were going to have a field day with this one.

"Oh my God," I gasped, tears dripping into my eyelashes. "Oh my God - you're - you're okay!"

I pulled back, grabbing his face to get another good look at it. He was paler than before, his lips horribly chapped, and faint, green bruises around his neck. But he was okay. He was _here_.

"You're okay too!" He cried back, gripping my wrists, then shoulders, and back again. As if he couldn't decide. "After I heard what happened, I - I've been looking everywhere for you guys!"

"What are you doing here?" I choked on the laugh as I hugged him again. It felt like a balloon had popped in my chest. "How did you - how are you _here?"_

"I got picked up outside of Jersey a couple days ago," He replied. "Apparently the troll network is what tipped them off about a Creepslayer being up for grabs."

I didn't reply, clutching him tighter. And he clutched back. So small. So skinny. And way too good to be true. I'd all but given up hope of ever seeing the friends Trollmarket had given me again. So having them literally appear out of thin air was making my brain spin.

For a moment, I wondered if I was dreaming.

"I'm so glad you're safe," I whispered. "I wanted to go after you as soon as we knew the truth - we all did. I - I'm so sorry -"

"Don't be," He hugged tighter. "I'm just glad I found you. I was so scared I wouldn't see any of you guys again."

I gave a humorless laugh.

"Is anyone else here?" He pulled back, squinting over my shoulder. "Where's Krel?"

The breath died in my throat.

"Wait a minute," A tall boy came forward from one of the tables. "You actually _know_ her?"

"Yeah, jackass," Eli threw back. "What is with you people anyway? You act like she's some alien from outer space."

Hm.

"Tarron," Zeron was striding towards us, a tight smile plastered all over his face. I pulled Eli under a protective arm, his head barely breaking my shoulder. "You didn't tell me you knew a Creepslayer."

"We went to school together." And I left it at that.

"You went to school together?" He took a step closer, his eyes zeroing in on Eli. "Did you ever travel together, too?"

Eli shot me a glance. "Uh . . ."

"Aja," Varvatos laid a hand on my shoulder, giving Zeron a warning look. "Why don't you introduce Varvatos to this - er - friend?"

Zeron opened his mouth to say something, but then Zadra came flying forward, catching him mid sentence and blabbing on about some emergency that he simply _must_ help her attend to. And they both disappeared out the doors.

Eli stared after them. "This place just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"Aja, who is this?"

"Oh," I turned back to Varvatos, releasing Eli. "This is one of my best friends."

"Eli," He said.

Varvatos's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but Eli just narrowed them back. He offered to shake Eli's hand, but once he did so, I heard at least three definitive pops in Eli's knuckles.

"Gah," He shook his hand to get the feeling back into it. "Wait a minute - is this . . .?" He pointed his good hand back at Varvatos. "Are you . . .?"

"Grandpa-geezer," I confirmed.

Eli's bright eyes pulled wide. _"Wow_. He - he's actually a real guy. Not that I thought you were lying or - I don't know - I just didn't think -"

"I know what you mean," I said. And I did.

When you're put into a box of a life, a life that's all run and hide and survive, it's hard to believe the good things. Not because you think they're not true, but because you aren't used to them anymore.

Varvatos gave him a skeptical look. "Where did you meet this Eli?"

"Trollmarket," I replied. "He's the one who got me there in the first place. He's one of the Creepslayerz, Varvatos."

Eli gave him a weak smile.

Varvatos's stern brow didn't flinch, but his mouth did hint at a smile. "You are very small for your reputation."

Eli didn't miss a beat. "Well you aren't exactly reaching to top shelf either, geezer."

Varvatos fought back a grin. "Varvatos likes this one."

"Come on," I tugged Eli's arm. I wanted to talk with him, where no one could stare and whisper. I wanted to know what he'd been through, how he'd gotten here, and everything in between. I wanted to know what he knew about Trollmarket.

As if reading my mind, Varvatos began herding us towards the doors, letting us slip away while he shooed off the remaining agents.

"Not to the roof," He called after us.

"Uh-huh."

The sun was just setting when we arrived on the roof, casting a golden glow across the space.

"Good to see your respect for rules hasn't changed," Eli said, watching me climb up on the lip of edge.

"Good to see your nagging habit hasn't changed."

He lowered his eyebrows at me, a look that was so Eli, it made me want to cry all over again from how much I had missed him.

"So where is Krel?" He kept craning his neck back and forth, eventually pointing to a deck chair. "Is that him?"

He deflated at my silence. "That's a garbage can, isn't it?"

"Uh . . ." I managed to swallow. "Did you tell your Minder you're as blind as Damzalski's grandma?"

"Minder?"

"The adult agent that brought you in."

"Oh, yeah," He sighed. "They said they'll have the prescriptions by tomorrow."

"Where have you been?" I asked. "What happened to you?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, coming to lean against the rim with me. "Long story short? Some trolls crashed my family reunion. I didn't have much choice but to make a run for it."

"So you saw them?" I leaned forward. "You saw your parents?"

A sheen layer of tears covered his eyes. "Yeah."

I put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "How long were you with them?"

"Barely even a day," His voice broke a little. "We were just starting to catch up and then - and then . . ."

I gave his shoulder a squeeze. "I bet they were so proud of you."

He sniffled. "They kept saying that actually, my dad especially. They just - they're - they were happy to see me."

"I'm happy to see you too," I said.

"Yeah," He wiped under his eyes with jerking movements.

"So where did you run to?"

"Back to Jersey eventually," He said, his eyes blowing wide again afterwards. "Oh! I forgot!"

"What?"

"Your parents!" He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me back and forth. "I met them!"

'Dumbfounded' would be an understatement.

"You _what?"_

"Yeah!" He was bouncing. "They were in Jersey looking for Trollmarket - looking for you!"

My throat closed up, tears jerking. A mix of pride and love shot through me, pulling a little laugh from my throat. But then a bitter anger I worked endlessly to keep quiet erupted. They'd been looking for us. They'd come for us. And they'd missed us. All because Seamus couldn't handle his power complex.

"Oh," Eli deflated. "Oh, I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

"It's okay," I sniffled, wiping under my eyes. "I - what did they say? How did you know it was them?"

"Uh, because you two are literally carbon copies of them," Eli laughed, and I laughed with him. "They had the accent and everything."

"Accent?" I tilted my head.

"You know," He gestured to his throat. "The accent."

"What accent?"

He pinned his lips together. "Nevermind."

"How did you find them?" I leaned over eagerly. "What did they say to you?"

"I wasn't with them for very long," He said. "They were doing this thing - like they had their own little resistance."

"What do you mean?"

"They were sneaking kids back to their families," He said. "They had all these different places for kids to hide at. I was in one of them for a while. And when I saw them, man Aja, you really do look exactly like your dad."

I giggled, my hands coming to cover my mouth as tears poured down. The pride was bursting inside me again, making my chest and face hot, my cheeks aching from smiling. Mama and Papa, they were helping other kids - kids like their own.

"Tell me more," I said. "Tell me everything."

He laughed again. "When I told them I knew you, they wanted to know _everything_ about you guys. They were ecstatic just knowing you guys were together again. But that was nothing compared to when I told them you guys ran away from the League - they laughed until they cried."

I laughed too. Krel and I outsmarting the same organization our parents had years earlier had a satisfying ring to it.

"More," I begged. "Tell me more."

And he did.

He told me how they both had the same brand I did, an arch between their brows. He told me how they had learned to outsmart the PSFs and how good they were at it. He told me how my father carried one of Krel's puzzle boxes with him, and my mother held onto my first, hot pink skateboard.

They carried those little pieces of us wherever they went. They smelled like sage constantly. My father would tell stories to the children, recalling his military days and all the trouble Krel and I had gotten into. My mother would constantly hum, and more often than not, the children would hum with her. She taught them scores of Portuguese lullabies.

They took in every child they found, whether they had the room or not. If there wasn't enough to go around, they would make enough to go around. If PSFs or trolls or anyone came looking for a fight, they would give them a fight.

They braved. They lead. And they searched. Endlessly looking for their own children, wishing on the stars every night that one day, they would be able to bring them home.

I was sobbing by the time he finished. Not sad. Not happy. Just so, overwhelmingly proud. I felt the warm love everywhere inside me. Like I was recognizing them with my whole being.

That was my Mama and Papa.

Eli patted my back awkwardly as I slowly calmed down, clearing the salt out of my throat. "What happened to them?" I asked. "How did you get separated?"

Eli pursed his lips. This was the not-so lovely part of the story. "They were looking for Trollmarket when they found me, and I was like, what a coincidence, so am I. So I helped them get there but . . ."

I braced myself.

"The tunnels were collapsed. Everyone and everything was gone. I - I thought -" He sighed. "I don't know what I thought, so I decided to go looking for you alone. I made it like, a week and a half before the League picked me up."

I nodded, continuing to wipe at my eyes as I lifted them to the stars barely beginning to peek out. Maybe Mama and Papa were looking up at the same stars, still wishing for me to come home.

I wished that too.

"Krel isn't here, is he?"

My eyes fell back down to him.

Eli was doing a good job of hiding it, but I could still see the disappointment in his eyes. "None of them are. You're alone here."

I looked away.

"What happened?" He asked. "What happened to Trollmarket?"

That part of the story was easy. Well, easier than it had been the first time I'd had to explain it. He nodded along as I spoke, a look of relief in his eyes when I told him we'd gotten everyone out in time.

"But what about Morgana?" He asked. "Her army? How did they get away from that?"

I lowered my eyes. "I don't know."

"How did you get picked up by the League?"

I pinned my lips together. This part of the story was not easy. But after everything that had happened, someone needed to know.

For the first time in far too long, I had someone to trust.

Eli was purely horrified when I told him about the panic button. Almost shooting into a lecture right then and there until I told him about how I'd used it to save Krel's life. Then he went quiet.

"So," He almost looked afraid to ask, "where is Krel?"

I took a measured breath. "He left."

"He just took off?" Eli gawked. "Without you? You sure that was Krel? I mean, have you heard about the cloning they're doing now? It's a whole new conspiracy -"

"Yes," I cut in. "I'm sure it was Krel."

"But why would he leave without you?" He asked. "Is he coming back?"

"No. He defected."

Eli opened his mouth, only to close it again.

"But someday," A tear fell from my eye. "Someday, I'll find him. And we'll go home. We'll all go home."

I wasn't looking at him, but I could feel how little he understood. How completely confused he was. I braced for the flood of questions, the interrogation he no doubt was ready to launch at me. But it never came. Instead, he did something that surprised me even more.

He hugged me.


	4. 4

**Boy, That Escalated Quickly**

I was almost terrified to admit to myself that things were getting better.

As if, once I did that, I'd jinx it and everything would go back to being a disaster. But nothing went back to being a disaster. Things were . . . almost normal.

Varvatos continued training me with the serrator, and I was beginning to enjoy it. The weapon was remarkably, and cleverly built. Eli had gone nuts over the layout of it. And I did too. Almost everyday, Varvatos was showing me a new way to hold it. A different way for the blade to lock into place.

_Fascinating_, Krel would've said.

I loved sparring with that weapon, even if we had to put guards over the blades and weren't allowed to fire the guns at each other. It was a thrill, to switch between such opposite styles of fighting in a way that complimented both. More than that - it was _lively._

And for the first time since I'd arrived in LA, I felt lively too.

Eli and I were basically attached at the hip between classes, talking and laughing endlessly about almost anything. We'd talk about Steve and Krel and how terribly we missed them. We'd talk about the instructors and make up ridiculous backstories for them. We'd talk about Eli's new teammates and how they absolutely despised me.

"What is with these guys?" He threw up his hands from where he sat on the desk in Varvatos's office. "It's like, just because you're Orange it automatically makes you a Xenomorph right out of the _Alien_ movie."

I spun myself in Varvatos's swivel chair beside him. "I'm really starting to hate that word."

"Xenomorph?"

I stopped to look at him. "Alien."

"Oh," He muttered. "But that's just the tip of the ice berg. You should hear some of the things they say about you."

Another look.

"Okay, maybe you shouldn't," He backpedaled. "But you know what I'm saying! It's just frustrating. The world gives us enough shit, we don't need to give it to each other."

"Truly inspiring, Gandhi."

He shot me a glare. "You're worse than Steve."

"Forget your stupid teammates," I said, kicking myself in another circle on the swivel chair. "And what they say. Besides, you'll win them over with all your conspiracy theories one way or another."

"You really don't care about the reputation they give you?"

I sighed, shrugging a little. "I have better things to worry about."

Namely, the rehabilitation camps.

At the very start of October, Zadra helped me propose an alternate program in the League dedicated to getting kids out of camps. Though the vote for it passed, it was almost immediately pushed to the bottom of the priority list. But Zadra and I had refused to let it die.

I spent hours upon hours, writing out every detail I could remember about Thurmond. The ways the cabins were ordered. The number of fences. Even the guard rotations. I'd rack my brain till it was mush to draw out endless amounts of diagrams and blueprints. Anything that could help get kids out of there.

Krel would've been proud of me.

Speaking of which, Eli didn't get the full story of what happened to Krel all at once. He got it in pieces. A little one day. A little more a few days later. Bit by bit until he could lace it together.

I kept expecting him to corner me on it. To pull the story out of me interrogation style. But he never did. Each time I told him a little more, he would give me a small nod. His silent way of telling me he could be patient.

It meant so much more than I thought it would.

But Eli was good at a lot more than just being patient. He quickly became one of the best Greens the League had seen so far. He could repair any piece of technology they handed him, no matter how unsalvageable it seemed. He could build too. Given any set of blueprints and a few tools, he'd work endlessly on developing new technology for Ops.

Of course, that came as no surprise to the agents, considering his reputation.

What did come as a surprise, though, was how many conspiracy theories the boy could cook up. Multiple times, I would walk into the locker room to find him standing on the benches as he preached to the multitude. Unsolved true crime. Paranormal cases. Bigfoot. Aliens. Illuminati. You name it, he could convince you of it.

"You've got yourself quite the rep, Creepslayer," I said to him one night. I was laying on my back, my legs straight up against the wall while Eli worked on the broken computer behind me.

"You mean as opposed to yours?"

I craned my neck to shoot him a glare. "I'm trying to pay you a compliment."

"My reputation is based on facts -"

"Yes, that 'Hitler is still alive' theory is definitely based on facts."

"As I was _saying,"_ Now it was his turn to glare. "People know me by what they've seen me do. They know you by what they're afraid you'll do."

I bounced my heels against the wall. "Maybe they're right to be scared."

He paused, looking back at me. "What are talking about?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" I focused on a spot on the wall. "I basically brain washed my whole family. It's only common sense to be afraid of someone like that."

Eli put down the screw driver. "Come on, Aja," He replied softly. "We both know that's not the full version."

My voice dropped to whisper. "Doesn't make it not true."

"Look, Aja," He sighed. "You did what you had to, and I think you're pretty brave for it. As a matter of fact, Steve used to go on and on about how brave you were."

I felt myself blush. "Really?"

"Oh yeah," Eli adjusted his League issued glasses. "The boy had it bad way before you broke into our van."

I giggled a little, turning my gaze back to the ceiling.

"What I'm trying to say," Eli picked up the screw driver again. "Is that it doesn't matter what these losers think about you, it matters what Steve and I think of you. 'Cause we know you. And we think you're a badass."

I giggled again, though it didn't chase away the pain in my chest. "Thanks."

"Besides," He added. "They're probably just jealous you're an undefeated sparring partner, with or without a serrator."

We didn't go on our first Op until the very beginning of November.

According to the rules, you have to finish basic training and be at least sixteen before they send you out on Ops. Once Eli's sixteenth birthday passed mid October, we were only waiting for the next available mission.

And code names.

You had to have one to go out. It was basic procedure. The day we got ours, we both received bright red Op folders in our lockers. Eli opened it, took one look at his code name, and couldn't stop beaming.

"What is it?" I asked, peeking over his shoulder:

_CRYPTID_

"I love it," He almost whispered, his voice was so high, bouncing up and down in his toes.

"How appropriate," I giggled, gently elbowing him.

He was instantly bouncing over my shoulder. "What's yours? What's yours? What's yours?"

I flipped open my own folder:

_PRINCESS_

Eli snickered a little. "I guess that fits."

I smacked him with the folder. "Har, har."

November was the month of Ops. We did one almost every week, going back and forth between the LA building to different bases around the US. A few days in Texas, a few days back at LA. A few days in Alaska, a few days back in LA. And so on.

We did jobs from raiding hospitals to destroying labs. As good as I was with a serrator on tactical Ops - not to mention how much easier I made getting passed security - it was the intelligence missions the League would save me for.

Breaking into government buildings, taking whoever had our information, then letting the Akiridion scramble their brains for it.

Sometimes I wouldn't even have to go out on an Op. Another team of Psi kids would bring someone in and I'd be forced to rifle through the filing cabinet of someone's mind at two or three in the morning.

They didn't care how exhausted it made me. How I'd wake up with other people's nightmares. The endless migraines and gushing bloody noses. They didn't care what it did to my own mind. All they cared about was a few coordinates. A passcode. A file number.

Then they'd let me go again. And whether it was day or night, I would lay down in my bed, close my eyes, and wish with all my being that I could erase my own mind for once.

I knew it was one of these 'house calls', as they called it, as soon as the senior agents wanted to see me.

That's the odd thing about the League, they didn't have one, sole leader. I think they did at one point, but then he died and nobody could agree on who should take his place to they just let the five most senior agents call the shots. Like a council.

I was with Eli when we received the message, packing up our equipment from the Op we'd barely returned from.

"You want me to clear your schedule for tonight?" He asked as I walked away.

I stayed long enough to give him a nod, then headed for the top floor. I could hear them yelling in the conference room from down the hall. Slowing my steps, I came to a stop at the hinge of the door, catching the overlapping voices from within.

"- many times do we need to repeat the word for it to join your vocabulary? The answer, is _no."_

"You're not thinking this through -"

My eyes widened a little. That was Zeron's voice.

"We will focus on Lightning In A Bottle for now, on finding the Professor's work."

Lightning In A Bottle, my mind repeated. Professor. Those were code names. Every Op had one along with the people that completed it. I'd participated in so many, I had heard near all of them. But not those two.

"You think we can keep this up without making a big statement?" Zeron threw back. "How many of these things do you have sitting around HQ, wasting our time and energy?"

"They are not _things_, as I'm sure you are well aware of," A female voice quipped back. "This is nonnegotiable. Our ends will never justify these means, no matter how you try to pitch this. Never. They are _children."_

"Joan," A new voice chimed in. "Let's not dismiss this entirely. This is a tactic that's been employed before and it _is_ effective. No one would be able to tell. We have ways of hiding the mechanism -"

"Lightning In A Bottle!" The woman near shrieked. "We are focusing on that Op, and that Op _alone!"_

"Lightning In A Bottle is a lost cause," Zeron said. "We don't even know if the Professor is alive. We warned him, but of course he didn't listen."

"Who cares if he's alive?" Yet another voice, a man's voice. "We can still find his work."

"Lost. Cause." Zeron spat. "Don't you understand that all these agents are waiting on you? For you to decide something?"

There was a tense moment of silence.

"I'm only warning you," Zeron continued, "that I've heard agents wondering what kind of policy we're moving forward with. A good number think that a few of you want to rekindle things with Morando. That you miss your old friend."

That struck a nerve, I could almost feel it in the air. A few members of the senior staff had a personal history with President Morando, that was common knowledge. One of them had even been the Secretary of Homeland Security. But using that against them seemed like a low blow.

Classic Zeron.

"Aja."

A hand rested on my shoulder, making me whip around to see Zadra. She'd just returned from an Op of her own, soot still smudged on her cheeks from the grenades. She gave me a sly look.

"You know you're not supposed to spy."

"No," I replied. "I'm just not supposed to get caught."

"And you're lucky that this time, it was by me."

"As always," I snickered.

Zeron stormed out of the room, along with several other agents, all looking equally frustrated. He paused for a moment to bore a glare through me, then turned and stomped down the hall with everyone else.

"And they say I'm the child," I muttered.

Zadra steered me towards the door. "Let's just get this over with."

The senior staff was visibly distraught when I walked in, but as soon as they saw me, they regained their composure. "Ah," The man at the front said. "Miss Tarron, I wish we could wait until you've fully recovered."

I looked down at my bruised hands, feeling the sore places crying out to me all over.

"But we require your services."

I took a breath, lifting my chin to stand like Mama, giving them a single nod. Zadra put a comforting hand over my shoulder. When I looked at her, she gave me a silent apology with her eyes. But it didn't change what I had to do.

"Who is my subject?" I asked. "And what will I be looking for?"

"There is information we have been trying to get a hold of for sometime now," He said. "But it was stolen before our agents could get a hold of it."

Behind me, Zadra became very stiff.

My brows pinched together. "It was stolen? By who?"

No one else had the means the League did to obtain that kind of intel, let alone be able to use it.

"That is what you will be looking for," A second man chimed in. "In the mind of Miss Zadra behind you. This time, she is your subject."

My head whipped back towards her. She had not been told this, that was obvious. She'd probably thought she'd been called in with me for moral support. It didn't happen often, but it was more probable than this.

"May I ask why?" I finally managed.

"I already told you," Zadra said, ignoring my question. "I didn't recognize the person I saw while in Philadelphia. I saw someone download the intel onto a flash drive, but the grenade was set off almost immediately after."

I looked back at her again. "Grenade?"

"A triggered explosion," She said. "It destroyed any evidence the thief left behind."

Thief, I scoffed in my head. Like we're any different.

"Which is exactly why we require Miss Tarron's assistance," The man replied. "You know as well as all of us that she has been instrumental in finding wayward memories."

I saw an anger fall over Zadra's face, one I recognized. The way her hands clenched. The way her spine fell rigid. She was scared.

"Oh come now," A woman said. "It's painless, isn't it? Besides, you know how valuable this intel is. If there's a chance our Princess can find it, we have to take it."

I tried very hard not to cringe. That code name was starting to get old.

"We don't have all day," The man waved his hand. "May we begin?"

It's not like we had a choice after that.

Swallowing, I lowered myself into a seat at the large table with Zadra right across from me. The staff sitting at the head of the table watched us steadily, making me want to crawl under it to hide from all this. But instead, I reached out to take her hands.

"Let's hope we get lucky," Zadra said, giving a light smile to the staff. But the look in her eyes gave me a different message.

I took her hand.

I'd gotten pretty good at cutting through memories, at filtering through the flood. Zadra's filing cabinet was simple to rifle through, only leaving the absolute necessities for me to find. I pulled up the memory of last night's Op and let it play before my eyes.

I saw long, dark corridors. Smelled a mixture of blood and bleach. Watched the gleam of a dim light reflecting off the metal of a gun.

Loud shots. Buzzing computers. Shouts across the hallways. My fingers tapping quickly against a keyboard. Looking for something. The information, the research Leda Corp had done on Psi.

But someone else was in the system. Another hacker, downloading and deleting all the information. They'd beat us to it. It was like watching the intel vanish down a drain. The frustration was hot in my hands as I threw them up. Hot in my legs as I sprinted to the main computer - the only computer the hacker could be on.

Running.

Ducking.

My throat burns from smoke. My feet sting from blisters.

Shooting.

And I'm there, in the entrance of the room, watching a figure type madly across the control panel. The intel vanishes from the software. The figure pulls a black flash drive from the computer.

The gun is heavy when I lift it, my arms burning. My voice is raw and it tears when I yell, but I do it anyway.

"Hands behind your head! Turn around!"

The figure freezes.

"Turn around!" I command again. "Turn around or I'll shoot!"

So they do. The dim light washes over them, illuminating how small they are. How terrified and how determined. How _familiar_.

Mama's eyes. Mama's skin. I'd know him anywhere.

Krel.

The hacker, was Krel.

**(A/N): i know it's not *that* much of a shock, since, it's in the summary, but, enjoy the cliffhanger anyway! :D**


	5. 5

**The Fine Art Of Bullshit**

**(A/N): heh, this totally didn't take forever for no reason lol**

**(but seriously sorry for the wait hope you guys like it enjoy!)**

"Can you not see she is exhausted?"

I woke up to Zadra screaming at the staff. I guess it's not the worst wake up call in the world.

"She has barely slept from her Op! She is battered and bruised! She is not some tool for you to employ! She is a _child!"_

I peeled myself off the carpet, grabbing the lip of the table to heave myself up. I more fell than sat in the chair behind me, my head full of fog as it pounded. Hot blood was smeared under my nose. But I could feel everything. Wiggle my toes. Wiggle my fingers. Open my eyes and understand where I was.

I was getting better at that.

The last of the memory was still echoing in my mind. How Zadra had screamed at Krel to run. How she'd detonated the grenade on purpose, destroying any trace he may have left behind.

But he still got away with the flash drive.

"She is also a member of our organization and was fully willing to offer her help," The man at the front rose to his feet. "Don't act like you can make demands of what we do with our Psi children!"

Zadra blew a hot breath out of her nose, but kept silent. When her eyes darted to me, I gave her a slight nod, signaling that I was fine. Utterly flushed with embarrassment. But fine.

For some irrational reason, I was suddenly wishing that Krel was here beside me. Sitting in the next chair over, just to be there. My eyes fell to the empty seat out of impulse, imagining him there to give me a small smile. One of the little encouragements he'd always give me, even if he never realized he did.

"Miss Tarron, do you need a minute?"

The sharp voice of the staff shook me from the stupor. My eyes darted from the empty chair, back into reality. I blinked, swallowing before taking the tissue Zadra handed me and wiping my nose. That's what I would focus on, the tissue. Zadra. Not the feeling of my chest caving in.

"I'm okay."

"What did you find?"

Everything seemed to go still, everyone leaning forward for the answer. A weight dropped over the room, a pressure over my shoulders beneath their gaze. Zadra and I locked eyes, the doubt in hers flickering to the surface. I narrowed my own to squash it.

"The other hacker was a woman," I said. "Tall, thin, maybe early forties. Dark, curly hair that was in two seperate buns on her head. And she wore red glasses."

She was also Miss Janeth, our old math teacher from Arcadia.

The man at the front looked to Zadra. "That sound familiar, agent?"

"Yes," Zadra slowly let herself relax, nodding with confidence. "Yes, it does. I'll be able to put together a report for you."

The woman gave her a tight smile. "Have it on my desk by tonight."

"Of course."

"The two of you are dismissed."

Zadra helped steady me on my feet with a hand on my elbow, guiding us out the door. As soon as we were out of earshot, she leaned forward and whispered:

"Meet in the gym during lunch."

I gave her a nod, and she whirled away down the hall.

Eli was in his room, laying on his bed while debating with his teammate that the Loch Ness monster had, in fact, been seen.

"We literally have pictures," He said.

"Yeah, but they're phonies."

"Okay, number one, it's called a _hoax_. And only one of them is! All the other ones are legit - oh hey, Aja."

The three other boys in the room instantly backed away from me, one even ducked behind the bunkbed.

I ignored them.

"Up for a walk?" I asked Eli.

He sat up. "Don't you wanna sleep? No offense, but you look like you were put through a grinder."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," I nodded my head towards the hallway. "Come on."

With a sigh, he kicked himself to his feet and followed me out into the dorm halls. "What's up?" He asked. "You usually lay down after . . . you know. So what's wrong?"

"I was just wondering something," I replied. "If I told you the name of an Op, would you be able to tell me what it is?"

"Depends," He shrugged. "What's the name?"

"Lightning In A Bottle," I said. "And someone called the Professor. Ever heard of it?"

He jerked to a stop. When I looked over my shoulder, his eyes were wide with wariness.

"What?" I asked. _"Have_ you heard of it?"

"Are you _kidding?"_ He gaped. "Only, like, the highest profile Greens even know what it is. I've only heard rumors - it's like a whole new conspiracy."

"Then you're the perfect one to find what it is, no?"

He adjusted his glasses. "Maybe, I dunno. Some of the pieces are there, but I'll need more proof, maybe access to some old files . . ."

"Do what you have to," I said. "I'm going to go . . . rest."

"But," He stabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "Lunch is in five minutes. You're not hungry?"

"Not this time."

I continued down the hall but Eli caught my arm.

"You sure you're okay? You look really pale," He looked down at my hands. "You're shaking."

I swallowed, pulling my arm back. "We'll talk later." Then I walked away.

With everyone in the artium for lunch, it wasn't hard to sneak down to the gym. The room was empty when I arrived, only dimly lit by the emergency light. I made my way across the mats, craning my neck as I scanned the room for Zadra.

Then she grabbed me.

One hand over my mouth and one arm around my torso as she lifted me off the ground and whisked me towards the locked closet that disguised the elevator. I let out a muffled cry, kicking my legs as she dragged me forward. My back hit the elevator wall when she threw me in, the doors sliding closed when she slammed her hand over the emergency button.

The elevator locked in place, red emergency lights washing over us in the dark. Varvatos was standing in the corner across from me, leaning on his cane as he waited.

"Really?" I steadied myself on my feet. "You two couldn't have given me a warning?"

"Are you hurt?" Zadra asked.

I straightened my jacket. "No."

She smacked the back of my head. "Then toughen up."

"What is going on?" I looked back and forth between her and Varvatos. "What happened in Philadelphia?"

"Do you know the details of Zadra's mission?" Varvatos asked.

"You were deep cover at Leda Corp, looking for the research Morando had commissioned on Psi," I said. "That was the intel you were looking for. Whatever Morando had discovered."

"Yes," She replied. "That was my original objective."

"So what the hell happened? I did _everything_ to make sure Krel would stay out of this -"

"As did we," Varvatos cut in. "Believe Varvatos, we are just as surprised as you are."

I ran both hands down my face, as though I scrub the frustration away. "Why was he even _there?_ What could he do with the research you were looking for?"

"Well for one," Varvatos adjusted his cane. "He could find your mother and father."

The words died in my throat. I was too frozen to breathe.

"W-what?"

"That's why he was there, Aja," Zadra said. "He was looking for your parents."

"That - that doesn't make any sense," I choked. "How could Leda Corp's research -"

"Remember the rumor Morando spread about your parents?" She cut me off, folding her arms. "Where they found a cure but destroyed it when denied control over the nation?"

My voice was hoarse. "You mean they actually . . ."

She nodded.

I had to lean on the wall for support.

"It is rudimentary," Varvatos said. "And still experimental. But yes, it exists. Fialkov and Coranda were key in discovering it. We believe Krel was following some kind of history they'd left behind before going into hiding. He didn't understand what he'd stumbled upon until it was too late."

I was barely listening, raking my fingers through my hair. It was real. It was possible. Psi could be cured.

I shook my head. "Why would Morando hide the cure?"

"Because that is not all that was discovered," Zadra said. "The research contains proof that Morando himself is responsible for the disease."

"How long have you known this?"

"Eighteen hours," She said. "I found out when I found the research, just before Krel downloaded and deleted it."

"Did you tell the senior staff?"

"No."

_"Why?"_

"Why do you think?" Varvatos snapped. "The League has been trying to replicate this kind of research for years! They will do anything to get it once they know it exists."

"They'll kill Krel," I whispered.

"Or worse," Zadra said. "For all the trouble he's caused."

"What do we do?"

"First of all, we need that intel -"

"First of all," I cut her off. "We need to make sure Krel is safe."

"And you think he's safe carrying around the most valuable, classified information on the continent?" Zadra snapped.

"If he is discovered," Varvatos said. "It will be all glorious dismemberment!"

"I get it, I get it," I spread my hands. "But if we're not going to tell the League, what are we doing with the intel?"

"We will tell the League," Zadra said. "When the time is right."

"Zeron and other agents just as dishonorable are trying to change what little refuge the League offers," Varvatos said. "Their unjust and destructive ways seem like the only option. This intel is a currency, we can use it to buy back the staff -"

"To get the League back to what it started as," I finished for him. "If we have the cure, we can sway them to our side. We can finish what Mama and Papa started."

"Exactly."

"What's Zeron planning?" I asked. "I overheard something about it this morning. Something about 'making a big statement'." I used my fingers to make air quotes.

Zadra and Varvatos exchanged an uneasy glance.

"What is it?" I leveled my eyes with them. "I'm a big girl. I can handle it."

A moment of hesitation, then Zadra nodded to him.

"Zeron wishes to use the information you provided on the rehabilitation camps to send children in with explosives strapped to them," Varvatos said. "'Nonessential' children would be handed over to PSFs, then the bombs would be detonated while inside camps. He, and all the others on his side, believe it would be enough for PSFs to abandon their post."

He might as well have punched me in the face. I barely even heard the last part, the static in my mind burning everything away.

"There is still time," Zadra leaned forward, giving me a hopeful look. "The staff is not fully convinced, but there's no telling how long they will remain that way. You bought us time with your lie, but it will not last forever."

"We need to find Krel," I swallowed. "Him and the flash drive."

"Which leads us to the next problem," Zadra pursed her lips. "Varvatos and I are being transferred."

_"What?"_ I gaped. "Where?"

"Alaska," Varvatos grimaced. "Tomorrow morning."

_"Tomorrow morning_ \- but, without you guys," I managed, "what's stopping Zeron from trading me to Morando?"

"You are, my princess," Varvatos said. "Because you are leaving, too."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's an Op in Boston that leaves tomorrow morning as well," Zadra said. "We've arranged for you to be on it. The folder should be in your locker by the time you get back upstairs."

"Then I'll make a run for it," I said. "And track down my little brother."

"There are coordinates Zadra can send to your Chatter," Varvatos added. "Krel sent up a signal just after he obtained the intel. He knows he needs us to come find him."

I nodded, feeling a steely determination fill me. I could do this. I was ready.

"Now go eat," Zadra said. "And get some rest. You're going to need it."

That night, I asked Eli to meet me up on the roof. He could tell something was amiss when I arrived - and not just because of the red Op folder tucked under my arm. It was like his superpower, to be able to tell when things weren't quite right. Suspicion was his sixth sense.

"So you wanna tell me why you're holding an Op folder?" He kicked back on one of the deck chairs. "We just got back."

I shrugged. "I'm eager for the adventure."

He looked at me for a minute. "Don't you ever get tired?"

I shrugged again.

"You're literally covered in bruises," He said. "Remember what Bagdwella said? How we're supposed to let ourselves rest? Are you sure you're up for another one?"

I lifted my chin. "Yes, I'm sure. And I'm the only Psi kid assigned, so I thought I'd offer you the opportunity to join me."

That was how it worked with Ops. If there was only one Psi kid going, they were given the option of bringing another kid of their choice. Of course, none of it was required.

But I think I could convince Eli to join me.

"I don't know, Aja," He winced a little. "We _just_ got back - from a four day Op in Nebraska. I had to have three blisters drained this morning. And you don't even want to know what happened with the splinters on my butt."

"You're right," I cringed. "I don't want to know."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is," He tucked his feet under himself. "I think we should give ourselves a little break, you know? You especially. We've had plenty of - uh - _adventures_ in the past month. Don't you want some time to, I don't know, breathe?"

"At least look at the folder," I said, holding it out for him. "Who knows? You might change your mind."

He squinted his eyes at me, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Is there something else you wanna tell me?"

I waved the folder in front of him. "One look wouldn't hurt."

"Fine," He muttered, finally swiping it from my hands and opening it across his lap.

As soon as his did, I reached over and laid my hand over his, entering his mind like a hot knife going into butter. I showed him everything Zadra and Varvatos had shown me. The memories. The conversation. The danger Zeron was ushering in. The half-terrified, half-determined look on Krel's face when he'd come to face Zadra.

Then I showed him the steely determination in my core. How I wasn't about to back down because I was tired or sore. I was doing this, with or without him.

_Preferably with_, I added.

I pulled back, watching his eyes stare blankly at the pages while his mind recovered.

"So, Cryptid," I folded my arms. "What do you think?"

He continued scanning the folder for a minute, his eyes growing as bright and eager as ever when he looked up at me. "We'll need a plan."

"We've got all night," I replied. "Let's plan."


	6. 6

**I'm Out Of Your League [Literally]**

Varvatos woke me up early to say goodbye.

"Don't go anywhere he can get you alone," He whispered as he hugged me. "Be smart. Defend yourself in whatever way you must, my little warrior."

"I will," I promised.

"Both Zadra and Varvatos will see you soon," He said. "We will be here upon your return."

I nodded as I pulled back. It was strange to think that I would have to return. The risk of defecting alone brought enough danger, but coming back and hoping they'd forgive me in exchange for the cure?

Nerve-racking, to say the least.

Zeron was the last person to arrive at the parking garage to see Varvatos and Zadra off - and me, I guess. We were leaving minutes after they were, Eli already at my side as we said our goodbyes.

But the moment Zeron walked in, everyone in the space tensed. Varvatos kept a grip on my forearms from our hug, glowering over my shoulder.

"Relax, geezer," Zeron gave a light chuckle. "I'm here to wish you luck."

"Varvatos needs no such thing," Varvatos barked in reply. "Varvatos is a glorious warrior with honor above all! He does not need your wishes."

"Then perhaps I'll extend them to your _precious_ granddaughter here," Zeron laid his blond eyes on me. "For her own mission. It's a simple Op, just disabling a small lab with a tactical team, but I'd say good wishes are in order." He gave me a cold grin. "After all, I've been assigned as her Minder."

I almost laughed at how smug he thought he was being, and judging by the grin Eli was trying to hide, so did he. Zeron thought he was so clever to sneak himself onto my Op. That he was one step ahead of us. Let's see who's smug when he's responsible for losing the best Orange the League has.

"Yes, Aja," Zadra raised a knowing eyebrow at me, a hint of a smile on her face. "Good luck on today's Op, and all the things that follow it."

I smiled back at her. "Not like I'll need it."

Hopefully.

Then they climbed into the black SUV, and disappeared down the road. Moment's later, we did the same thing.

The tactical Beta Team, Zeron, Eli, and I were driven off to the Los Angeles airport, where all ten of us were smuggled onto a cargo plane headed straight for Boston.

According to the League, the shipment that owns these planes had a long history with us. We've done higher profile Ops that work out in their favor, and in return, they grant us a ride or two when we could use one.

Eli and I took our seats beside wall, behind a mountain of plastic wrapped crates strapped to the floor. On the other side sat the Beta Team, laughing about something we couldn't hear over the hum of the engine. And Zeron sat comfortably in the cockpit, out of sight but - unfortunately - not out of mind.

Eli couldn't stop whispering about him, unable to get over the plan he was desperately trying to get through to the League. Using the information I gave them to blow 'nonessential' children sky high.

"The worst part is that it makes sense," He cringed, shaking his head. "Just like turning Psi kids into child soldiers. It's genius if you have no morals."

"The League has morals," I replied, careful to keep my voice down. "Or at least, they used to. They've just lost some of them along the way."

"Pretty soon they'll run out," Eli said. "Then strapping bombs to kids is gonna be their only option."

"There _is_ another option." I didn't dare say what I meant out loud. The look in my eyes was enough for him to understand.

"But isn't it sad that this is what it takes for them to treat us like humans?" He asked. "They don't see us as people who have a disease, they see us like we _are_ the disease."

I shifted against the frigid air, holding the small emergency blanket I'd been given tighter around me. As sickening as this discussion was, it was my own anxiety twisting my stomach into knots. I just wanted this freezing plane ride over. I wanted to get to Boston. I wanted to find my little brother.

And I wanted to do it _now_.

"Quit tapping," Eli put his hand on my shoe. "You're just gonna drive yourself crazy."

I sighed, leaning my head back against the wall. "Can't this plane go any faster?"

"Try to think of something else."

"Like what?" I whined.

"Like," He shifted in his own blanket. "Maybe, how weird it is we have to pay money to see other humans?"

"You mean like prostitution?"

He looked at me for a minute, then reached up to touch his frames. "Glasses, Aja," He said. "I'm talking about glasses."

We eventually fell asleep leaning on each other, doing what we could to ignore the constant jostling from turbulence. At first, I'd been set on staying awake and alert, knowing that Zeron was just around the corner in the cockpit. But after about fifty reminders from Eli that I'd barely even slept the night before, I decided it was better to sleep while I could.

They didn't tell me how cold it would be in Boston.

Or how . . . rugged it would be.

Boston is one of those towns that's put up on a kind of pedestal. All these accomplished people were born there. All these famous battles happened there. All these schools took up residency there. It housed a unique kind of history. But that didn't make it any less broken.

The red brick buildings were standing with windows bashed in a scorch marks across the red. Grand town halls were locked and boarded shut. Almost every road was jam packed with cars and bikes, all inching forward to their destination.

And every other open space was filled with tents. All colors, shapes, and sizes. Some were even just sheets, set up like blanket forts to keep out the December weather. But some had even less, nothing but a sleeping bag and wall to lean on in defense of the snow.

I leaned closer to one of the windows on the ambulance door to watch them. A hospital near our landing port gifted us the vehicle in exchange for the Leda Corp supplies we had dropped off.

Just seeing the emblem on the crates, an elegant golden swan, made something in my gut lurch. But that was nothing compared to what it did to Eli. He'd all but blanked out as he stared at it, some horror story I will never understand playing behind his eyes.

After all, it was Leda Corp's program that had given him his scars in Caledonia.

I'd wanted to say something to him in that moment, but I knew there was nothing I could say that would make that look disappear. That would make those _scars_ disappear. So I rested my hand on his shoulder instead, a gentle reminder that he wasn't alone.

"I don't understand," I whispered, my breath fogging up the glass. "Why are so many people out there?"

"A lot of people lost their homes when the market crashed," Eli replied from the bench on the wall of ambulance. "The government couldn't pay off its debt, which then meant people couldn't get jobs, which then meant they couldn't afford to keep what was theirs. It's like a domino effect."

"But if everyone everywhere was like this," I said. "Why couldn't the banks have just let them stay until things became stable? Isn't there something we should do to help?"

"Because that's not how the world works," Zeron snapped from the driver's seat. "Get over it."

He was wearing an EMT uniform, enjoying himself a little too much as he blew out our sirens on anyone who didn't get out of our way fast enough. Eli was wearing an EMT overcoat, with a matching cap hanging over his eyes.

I, on the other hand, was wearing the coat the League had provided for me in my backpack. They always gave us the basic necessities for Ops in our packs. So the second we were off the plane and under the sleet, I pulled the coat out of mine.

And of course, it was neon blue.

Sparkling. Glow-in-the-dark. Eye-wateringly-loud. Blue.

"Nice touch, isn't it?" Zeron had said over my shoulder. "It's the latest model issued. All new patterns and fabrics to provide as much warmth with as little weight as possible. A little gift from yours truly. I even got one for your friend."

Eli had given him an uneasy look. "Yeah . . . I'm good with just the EMT jacket - but thanks."

I felt like screaming every time I looked down at it. Zeron may as well have stuck a tracker to my forehead. With this thing on, I could be seen for miles. Especially with everything covered in stark, white snow.

Who in the hell even _let_ him give two Psi kids this kind of attire for a stealth mission?

But it's not like I had much choice when it's between wearing this or getting frostbite. It _was_ comfortable at least. And incredibly warm.

It almost made me sad that I'd eventually have to ditch it.

Eli was still giving me cringing looks of pity in the back of the ambulance. The material was literally glowing in the dim light of the vehicle, like something radioactive. Instead of just being treated like an alien, now I actually looked like one.

I had to keep low to the wall to avoid any of it showing out the window.

Of course, Eli had tried offering his condolences when I'd first put it on, but I stopped him. "Not a word, Pepperjack," I'd hissed. "Not a word."

"I was just gonna say you look like this one cosplayer I saw -"

"Not." I had gritted my teeth. "A. _Word_."

Behind us, Zeron was smirking as he'd climbed into the driver's seat, looking so proud of himself to have me so perfectly trapped. Practically tied with a bow to be handed over to Morando.

We'll see how smug he is when this is over.

Thankfully, though, the Beta Team didn't have the opportunity to witness me become a neon sign. We'd split up at the landing port, the Beta Team dressing in ragged clothes, Red Socks hats, and coats thick enough to conceal the weapons tucked underneath; then jumping in the back of an old pickup truck.

They would be driving straight to the lab in Harvard's medical school, while we would be driving straight to a professor's home in Cambridge. Zeron called it a two pronged, simultaneous assault. The Beta Team would destroy the lab while we "pulled" the professor in charge of said lab in for questioning.

Or brain scrambling. Whatever the staff decided once we got him back to HQ. But I guess we wouldn't get him back to HQ this time.

Congratulations bastard, I thought. It's your lucky day.

"Get your comms on," He snapped at us. "We're almost there."

I pulled the listening device from my pocket, pushing it into my ear as Eli did the same. We exchanged a glance, me catching the nerves twitching behind his eyes. When he looked back at Zeron, they burst like fireworks.

I put my hand on his bouncing knee, trying to shoot confidence into him that way. It was the best I could do for now.

_"This is Leader in position,"_ The comms in our ears burst to life. _"Ready to commence Op at twenty-two thirty. What is your status, Minder?"_

That was Barton talking, the head of the Beta Team and, consequently, head of the Op.

"Five minutes out from the Goose's nest," Zeron replied.

The nerves in my stomach were suddenly set on fire. We were almost there. Eli's knee began bouncing again.

"Are we connected to Home Front?"

_"Home Front here,"_ The agent monitoring the Op from HQ said. _"Line is secure, tracking both units now. Okay to proceed at twenty-two thirty. Satellite feed shows minimum interference at Target Two."_

The ambulance came to a smooth stop a short distance from the professor's pleasant little white house with a worn picket fence. Zeron unhooked his seatbelt and stood, stretching slightly as he climbed into the back.

"We're in position," He said, pressing a hand to his ear. His eyes slid over to me, barely concealing the smugness there. I glared back, raising an eyebrow as a dare.

Go ahead, my mind hissed. Try laying one finger on me and see what happens.

_"You have the all clear,"_ The HQ agent said. _"Goose Egg is a go."_

_"Roger,"_ Barton replied, Zeron echoing him.

"Don't say a word," Zeron barked at Eli. "Don't fidget. And follow my lead exactly. Then get your ass back here, understand?"

Eli managed to nod.

Zeron turned to me. "You know what to do?"

I met his blond eyes straight on. "I do."

"Then get out of my way."

I stepped to side, sliding onto the bench beside Eli as we watched Zeron push the ambulance doors open. A cold rush of air came over us, the late evening sky giving only the mutest of oranges for light. I hugged my coat tighter around me, Eli huddling at my side to escape the snow blowing in.

Zeron had to jump to the ground before pulling out the gurney, along with the duffel bag resting on top of it. In that tiny moment - that split second of his attention off of us - I felt Eli's hand slide under the hem of my shirt, along with the serrator it was holding.

This Op did not classify as dangerous enough for Psi kids to carry weapons, therefore, we'd been barred from bringing them. It wasn't an easy rule to get around, but after some finagling last night, Eli picking the weapon's closet lock, and me mind melding an agent into thinking he never saw us, we managed to get a hold of my serrator.

He'd had it on him the whole time, smuggling it under his sweater the entire plane and ambulance ride - so it was warm when he hooked the hand grip onto my waistband. Then his hand came up to pat me on the back, making the motion as natural as possible. Moving passed me, he hopped out to help Zeron steady the gurney.

He gave me a small salute and a smaller smile before he slammed the doors shut. I returned it. There were no nerves now, only action. We had a job to do and people to protect. And no one - especially not the almighty 'Alpha' Zeron - was going to stop us.

The porch light flickered on as they arrived at the door, Eli bent over the golden knob to pick it.

They disappeared inside, the porch light switching off.

Shrugging out of my glow-coat, I pulled the Swiss-Army knife I'd smuggled in my boot and ran my fingers along the seam until I felt a hard bud.

The tracker.

I slid the knife along the fabric, snapping the stitches and pulling at the wire. It was tangled in deep, forcing me to maneuver carefully with it to make sure I didn't accidentally disable it and alert Zeron that I had removed it. When it finally broke free, I opened the doors and tossed it out into the snow.

_"We're inside,"_ Zeron's voice crackled in my ear. _"Status Leader?"_

_"On schedule, Minder."_

Then I tugged off the black, knitted hat I'd been given and did the same thing, throwing away the tracker like the piece of garbage that it was.

Everything was so calm as I did it. So quiet and still. Certain. For once, I liked it.

Eli opened the ambulance doors just as I pulled the coat back on. We locked eyes for a split second, then I threw him the knife and he caught it out of the air.

Climbing in, he pulled the second glow-coat out of his own pack and cut the tracker out of it then shoved it back in his pack. Making his way up to the front, he pulled out the fine tools he'd smuggled under the waistband of his pants and disappeared under the steering wheel, getting to work.

_"Target acquired. Princess, is the perimeter clear?"_

I pulled my serrator out from behind me, standing tall before the doors of the ambulance as I put my hand to my ear. "Yes."

The doors opened, Zeron dragging an incapacitated man behind him on the gurney. By the time he looked up at me, my serrator was already level with his eyes.

It took about three seconds for the shock to pass, his face coloring with rage. His hands curled to fists, reaching for a Calm Control device that wasn't there. I grinned.

A low growl ripped from his throat. "Princess -"

"Hey, Alpha," I said, savoring every word. "I have a question for you."

_"Princess, keep all non-Op transmissions off the line,"_ came Barton's voice.

Zeron's nostrils flared. "Where in the _hell_ did you get that -"

"Did you know their names?" I asked, taking a step forward.

_"Princess,"_ The woman back at HQ sounded just as irritated. _"Please cease your -"_

"What are you talking about?" Zeron spat. "Barton, get your team over here. Princess has somehow gotten a hold of a serrator."

_"She what?"_

"The children you killed," I took another step, forcing Zeron back. "Remember? The night before we met. You broke them out of a camp just to blow out their brains. That girl was pleading for her life, and that boy - you didn't even give him a chance to wake up."

_"Minder, what is going on over there?"_

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about!" He barked. "Leader, get your team here _now!"_

_"We can't just turn around -"_

"Look, I just want to know their names," I hopped out of the ambulance, forcing Zeron back another step. "I want to know if you bothered to ask before you put a bullet through their heads."

_"Minder!"_ The woman called. _"Status!"_

Zeron was trembling with rage, vibrating with it. "You better put that thing down or so help me -"

"Actually," I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. "Do you know the names of any of the children you've killed? The ones you dragged down to that basement below the gym? What did you call it again? 'The place no one can hear you scream'?"

_"Minder, what is she talking about?"_

"Princess has smuggled a weapon onto this Op!" Zeron screamed into his comm. "I need someone over here to get her under control!"

_"Princess,"_ The woman didn't sound irritated anymore. She sounded alert. _"Disarm immediately or we will be forced to -"_

"But you knew my brother's name, didn't you?" I felt the hot anger spread through my chest. And I let it take over. "Of course, you never killed him. He tried to expose you for the monster you are. He even tried to warn the kids you targeted." I felt a fire light behind my eyes. "And you tortured him for it."

_"Alpha, what the hell -"_

"She's lying!" He roared. "I don't know what she's talking about! All of it! It's a lie!"

"But once Morando slapped a price on our heads," I held the gun steady. "You were willing to do just about anything to hand us over. Is that why you tortured me for Krel's location?"

_"Princess,"_ The woman sounded furious now. _"Disarm immediately. Minder, return to the rendezvous point now -"_

_"Alpha, you better hope I did not just hear her correctly."_

"Stop lying, goddammit!" He threw out his fists, stomping his feet like he wanted to charge. "When I get Calm Control, your brain will leak out your ears!"

_"Princess, if you do not heed the instructions -"_

I ripped the comm out of my ear, throwing it into the snow and stomping it flat. Behind me, the ambulance roared to life.

"What the -" Zeron's wide eyes flew over my shoulder. "Is Cryptid - the hell did he - Leader! I need assistance! These kids are hijacking my Op! When we get back to HQ -"

"We're not going back to HQ," Eli appeared behind me, standing in the doorway of the ambulance.

"What?" He almost laughed. "You think you're leaving? You think you can make it two days out there without the League?"

"I think we can make it far longer than that," I took another step forward. "But don't worry, we'll be back. And when we do, you better hope you're not there to see it."

A cocky chuckle pulled out of him, a final grab at intimidation. "What will you do? Shoot me? And get your pretty-princess hands dirty?"

My eyes went dark. "You tortured my brother," I said. "And for it, I should kill you."

The serrator was hot in my hands. The ambulance was humming along with my rapid heartbeat. And Zeron's eyes were throwing everything he could at me, trying to melt through the armor I had clad around myself.

The armor people like him had given me.

I smiled. "But I won't."

Lowering the barrel of my serrator, I leveled it with his left foot, and pulled the trigger.


	7. 7

**The Good, The Bad, And The Frostbite**

**(A/N): sorry i keep changing the story title lol (i can't make a decision to save my life XD) **

There was an explosion of red against the white snow, Zeron releasing a guttural cry as he doubled over.

I dropped my serrator to my hip, pivoting on my heel and clasping Eli's hand as he heaved me into the ambulance.

"You bitch!" He screamed behind us, crumpling to the ground as he gripped his leg. "I'll kill you for this! You too, Cryptid! I'll rip your brain right out of your skull!"

"You bastards already tried that with me!" Eli spat back, then slammed the doors as loud and as hard as he could.

My hair flew behind me as I launched myself into the driver's seat, my hand pulling the knit hat down over my scar. My foot pounded over the gas pedal and we shot forward, hard enough to knock Eli onto his back pockets.

My serrator fell to the floor, my knuckles white around the steering wheel as I swerved us onto a back alley way - far, _far_ from Zeron and anyone like him.

A breathy laugh burst from my throat, a triumphant warmth traveling all the way down to my fingers. I was tingling with it, almost dancing in the seat and giggling madly at the open road ahead of us.

"We did it!" I called back to Eli. "Ha, ha! We did it!"

"Yeah," He breathed, his eyes brighter than the lights flashing above us. "We did."

He climbed up to the passenger seat, one hand holding my Chatter and the other pressed against the comm still in his ear.

"Woohoo," He whistled. "I think Alpha just invented three new cuss words."

I threw my head back against the seat, laughing from the deep end of my stomach. God, this felt _good_.

"His creativity knows no bounds," Eli snickered, pulling the device from his ear, then flinging it out the window.

"He'll be knowing lots of bounds when he gets back to HQ," I added. "And not just because I shattered every bone in his foot."

Eli laughed again, his voice cracking a little halfway through it. His fingers began fiddling with the Chatter, pulling up the coordinates Zadra had sent. "Philadelphia here we come."

"Which way are we going?"

"Right now? East," He replied. "When we hit New York, we'll start heading south."

"How much of a head start do we have?"

"Maybe a few hours," He put a hand on my shoulder, making me lean back a little more in my seat. After all, I was still a giant glow stick. "If we're lucky. By then they'll actually have a widespread search for us. So we should stay low, try to make it to a train station or something."

"Whatever it takes to get to Philadelphia," I said. "Whatever it takes to get to Krel."

We drove through the night, getting into the outskirts of New York around one in the morning. It was only two hours later that we had run completely of out gas.

"What?" I slammed my palm against the steering wheel as the car slowed to a stop. "How much gas was in this thing?"

"Probably not much," Eli muttered from where he was curled up on the passenger seat, half-asleep. "You know, with the gas crisis and all?"

I went to rake my fingers through my hair, only to knock the knit hat off and undo the bun I'd stuffed beneath it. My chest was tight with frustration, the cold already leaking through the walls of the ambulance from the snowfall outside. We didn't have much choice but to go on foot, and according to the Chatter's GPS there was a town within a few miles of here, but in this weather . . .

I tied my hair back again with a sigh, pulling the hat back over my head.

"Come on," I said to Eli. "Get up. We need to get moving."

His eyes were open as he stared at the floor, the only movement of his boney shoulders as he breathed. It took me until that moment to realize he couldn't get up.

I felt myself deflate. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to forget -"

"It's okay," He whispered, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

My chest just got tighter, almost making it hard to breathe as I undid my seatbelt. The burning memory of the last time I abandoned a car on the road was not helping either.

Climbing into the back, I pulled up both of our packs and began filling them with what we could from the ambulance. First aid kits, flashlights, blankets, and - as much as it made me want to slam my head into a wall - the second glow coat.

It felt like a waste to leave it behind, especially since Eli had nothing more than an EMT jacket to keep out the blizzarding cold. But now that made us two walking glow-sticks instead of one.

I was practically a beacon on my own against the dark road, my coat shimmering with blue.

"You know," Eli said as I eased his arm into the sleeves of the coat. "These would be really pretty if, you know, we weren't trying to stay invisible."

I sighed, tugging the coat tighter around me as if that could somehow lessen its glow. At least we would be warm. "I've never been good at being invisible."

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing."

I sent him a sour look.

"You know what I meant," He retorted. "I mean, if you'd stayed invisible, you probably never would've found Steve and I."

I reached over to ruffle his hair. "At least there's that."

But all I could hear was my mother's bittersweet words, the thing she had said to me the first time I'd ever tried to run away. _You are extraordinary, Aja. You could run from this life, fly far away from this place, and who you are would follow you._

I wondered if my mother ever knew how right she was.

The air was beyond frigid when I stepped out on to the snowy road, thick flakes clinging to my eyelashes as the wind whipped against my face. Rounding the car, I opened the passenger door and watched Eli tense up from the blast of cold air.

"Come on," I grunted, slipping my arms under him and shifting him onto my back. "You can hold on, right?"

He buried himself in the crook of my neck for warmth. "Mhmm."

Kicking the ambulance door closed, I set off along the vacant road, the snow hiking up to my shins as I walked. The tip of my nose went bright red within the first ten minutes, my whole face raw from the pelting snow. At least I had the knit hat to keep my ears warm and my scar covered, next to Eli who had nothing but an EMT baseball cap.

He was clinging to me with what little strength he had, shivering against my frame as the snow caked in his hair. The flashlight beam I held in front of us illuminated our fogging breath, but we almost didn't need it with how bright our coats were already shining.

Because of it, I had to take a detour off the road in an effort to hide in the treeline, just in case anyone came down the road and wondered why two, blue aliens were walking into New York.

At least all the snowfall was covering our tracks.

The GPS on my Chatter estimated we'd be able to reach the closest town by morning. But it wasn't making the walk any easier.

The snow had made my toes go painfully numb within the first hour. My socks were soaked through my pant legs, and my neck ached from how tightly I was scrunching up my shoulders. Not to mention the way my back burned from supporting Eli's weight.

"You know what's funny?" I managed to chuckle in the silence.

"Hmm?"

"The last time I abandoned a car for -" I had to pause, my breath fogging in front of me. "- for walking, it was the hottest I'd ever been. And now -"

"It's the c-coldest you've ever b-been?"

I tried for another laugh but it came out more of a shiver. Eli buried himself deeper in my collar, almost making a whimpering sound.

"What -" I panted. "What did you say?"

Eli lifted his head again. "I h-hate this."

Another chuckle. "You don't see snow like this in California, do you?"

"No," He shook his head, dropping snow from his hair down my collar and making me wince. "N-not that. I just . . . I wish I could carry my own weight."

I shot him a glance out of my peripherals. "You do carry your own weight."

He gave me the same sour look I'd given him in the ambulance. And again, just now.

"You do."

"You are literally c-carrying me right-t now."

"Because I want to, Eli," I said. "This isn't your fault, it's -" _Pant._ "- it's theirs, Zeron's and everyone like him. It's not fair, more than not fair. So I'm -" _Pant._ "- I'm okay evening out the score a little."

He lowered his head again. "I just hate being so weak."

"I don't think -" _Pant._ "- you're weak."

He scoffed, and I could almost feel him roll his eyes.

"Hey," I turned my head to look at him. "I mean it. What we just did? Pulling out of the League? There was no way I could have done that without you -" _Pant._ "- you and all your badass stealth skills."

He snickered a little. "If anyone's the badass here, it's y-you."

"Oh, please," I replied. "Steve would totally be on my side with this one."

Eli let out a soft sigh, the perspiration from his breath freezing against my neck. "I wonder where Steve is r-right now."

I didn't answer for a moment. "Me too."

"D-do you miss him?"

I would've laughed if I wasn't so out of breath. "Don't you?"

"I miss a-all of them."

I a cool fog appeared before me as I sighed. "So do I."

"He's been c-crazy about you forever," Eli muttered into my collar. "You know that?"

I titled my head. "You mean Steve?"

"No, _Damzalski_ \- of course I mean Steve!"

I coughed out a laugh. "Yes, I did know that."

"He wouldn't s-stop talking about you sometimes - God, it was so annoying."

"He wouldn't stop talking about you sometimes either," I said. "He would go on and on about all your adventures. He talked about you like you were his brother."

Eli sunk lower on my back. "He is my brother."

"Then we'll find him again," I glanced back to catch Eli's eyes. "Just like we'll find my brother."

There were a few beats of silence, the only sound of the loud wind and the crunching of my boots through snow. I could almost feel Eli's doubt radiating off of him, crushing through the both of us the longer I held him. He wanted so desperately to hope - we both did.

But so far, hope was only one step above torture.

Eli picked up his head again. "You know what's funny?"

I smiled. "Hmm?"

"It took me literal _years_ to get Steve to talk about his family," He said. "Like, anything at all. And you come along, get to know him for two months, and he just spills everything like a pot of water."

I burst into breathy giggles. "That's what a make-out session will do."

_"No,"_ Eli gave me a pointed glare. "It was more than that. You made him feel . . . good. About himself, I mean. You made him want to open up."

"About himself?" I shot him a questioning glance. "What do you mean?"

"You do know Steve was the school bully, right?"

I shrugged to the best of my ability. "Yes, kind of." I'd gotten a few details here and there. Never the full story.

"Let's just say he lived up to the title," Eli said. "I was actually his favorite to pick on. He used to shove me in lockers, beat me up, the whole thing, you know?"

"I suspected," I replied. "You two are so opposite, and yet, so similar. How did you become friends anyway?"

"He . . ." Eli hesitated. "Needed a place to stay one night. We lived across the street from each other, so I ended up being his only choice. And it . . . kinda went from there."

"Did he ever apologize?" I asked. "For all the things he did?"

"Are you kidding?" He scoffed. "About a million times - also trying to make it up to me a million different ways. It's hard to imagine him being that way, but he is. He was raised to be this 'tough guy' asshole that didn't care about anyone but himself, just like his dad. But Steve cares about people a lot, probably more than he'll admit to himself. It's kinda funny, but once you get to know him, he's just a dorky softy."

"Yes," Despite the cold, I felt myself grow warm. "He is."

"You reminded him of that," Eli said, softer this time. "That it was a good thing. That _he_ was a good thing."

"I never meant to."

He gave me a grin. "That's how you know it's true love."

I jostled him on my back. "Shut up."

But the warmth never left my chest, no matter how frozen I became.


	8. 8

**A Bun As Messy As My Life feat. The Hiccups**

**(A/N): double-posting today because these chapters are short and because i can ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯**

We were a pair of glow sticks in the dark, popsicles by the time we reached the edge of town. The sun was barely kissing the horizon, streaks of golden orange brazing across the sky as my feet hit the cracked streets of _Austerlitz_.

What a strange name for a town.

Eli had fallen asleep with his face in my collar at some point, the saliva that had dripped from his mouth now frozen to my neck. It wasn't easy to ignore the sensation but I managed.

Austerlitz was a remarkably small town, almost hilariously so. There were almost no people to run from as I wound my way behind the brick buildings. And those who were out in the early morning weren't paying much attention outside their routine. This is a town where nothing happens. Where no one suspects.

Good.

The diner was the first building I saw with an open window. Not to mention the smell wafting out of it was almost too much to resist.

My legs were burning as I reached the back of the brick restaurant, trembling with exhaustion as I lowered Eli to the snow-covered ground. His eyes fluttered as he shifted, watching me lower myself onto one knee in front of him.

He took a deep breath through his nose. "You okay?" He mumbled.

"Fine," I panted. "Can you get up on your own?"

He stretched as he nodded, digging his fingers into the bricks to pry himself up. He was a little wobbly, but I kept him upright.

Heaving him by his legs, I managed to shove him through the back window, wincing at the small crash that followed him. After a few moments he reappeared in the opening and managed to tug me in after him.

I landed on the counter - and all the dishes covering it. I'd barely twisted out of the way before my weight tipped along with Eli's, knocking us both across the tiles and a whole pile of silver bowls clanging beside us.

My gut dropped at the sound. It was next to ear splitting in the quiet.

There were footsteps approaching the kitchen door within ten seconds of the sound.

Eli and I locked eyes for a split second before I leapt to my feet and bolted behind the door, listening to the sound of heels clicking down the hall. The door swung towards my face, a woman with dark curls and darker skin peering into the room. Eli met her eyes with a pallid face, still sprawled out among the scattered dishes.

The woman choked on her words. "You're - wait, what are you - you're one of _those_ _-"_

I whirled out from behind the door, grabbing at her bare neck before she could even see me. Her mind poured into mine, my invisible fingers forcing her river of memories to part as I watched her pupils blow wide.

"Do you own this establishment?" I asked.

"No." Her voice was flat, almost numb. "My dad does."

I looked down at the black dress she wore - looking more like a waitress than a manager. She couldn't have been any older than twenty-five. "Do you work here?"

"Yes."

"Where do you live?"

"On the second floor."

I glanced back at Eli, his face still pale and his chest still heaving. "Is anyone there?"

"No."

"Then take us there," I said. "And don't let anyone see us."

She stepped away from me almost robotically, letting us follow her out a second door of the kitchen. It emptied us out on a rough set of stairs, dried leaves and dead cockroaches lining the corners as we followed her up. The door it lead us to had two deadbolts, the key she produced sticking in each of the locks for a moment before she could pull it out again.

"Must be having a theft problem," I muttered.

Eli shifted beside me. "Or a gnome problem."

The space inside wasn't much. A small, but refined kitchen. A sparse living room with an old TV and a ratted, plaid couch. A bathroom. A bedroom. And a loft leading to the master bedroom.

It was simple but clean. What little they had was neatly organized in its own place. It was still a home. Warm and comforting - though, the sudden change in temperature was lighting my cheeks and ears on fire.

I turned back towards the woman. "Go back to your work and tell no one that we are here," I said. "If anyone asks about the sound, tell them it was raccoons. When you are done with your shift, bring whatever leftover food you have to us, but let no one else up here. Do you understand?"

She gave a steady nod, her pupils hauntingly dilated. Then she turned and disappeared down the stairwell, leaving me to lock the door behind her.

Behind me, Eli let out a strangled laugh. "That's a good trick."

I slid the last bolt into place. "Let's just hope it lasts."

Eli let me shower first, seeing that I was the one far more soaked between the two of us. I nearly collapsed on the bathroom floor trying to undress myself. My clothes were freezing and sticky against my skin, wrinkling and tugging as I yanked them over my head. I was completely out of breath just getting my shirt off.

By the time I'd peeled off my socks, my feet were pulsing with pain. It was almost numbing, almost stinging, almost throbbing, and yet none of them at all. The skin was bright red under the dim bathroom lights, and the ends of my toes were hinting at white.

Frostbite.

Fantastic.

It looked to be fairly moderate case so I figured a long hot shower would do me well enough for now. As much as it hurt to stand.

I knew Eli was going to want some hot water as well, so I tried my very best not to lose track of time. But sitting under the warm water, letting it gradually soak around my aching toes, it was hard not to fall asleep standing up.

Climbing out, I wrapped myself in a towel and found a bundle of oversized pajamas Eli had left for me, probably pulled from the owner of this place's drawers. So I suppose it's not oversized for them.

The sweatshirt felt warm and soft against me, the velvety pajama pants complimenting it perfectly. I just stood there for a moment hugging myself. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so comfortable.

Dumping my sopping clothes into the washing machine, along with Eli's now that he was showering, I raked my fingers through my hair and tied it back on the messiest bun to date. I spent a solid ten seconds examining it, wondering if it could be messier than my life.

If anything could be messier than my life.

I rubbed my hands over my face as I sunk onto the couch. My limbs felt hollowed out with exhaustion, the soft warmth of the cushions coaxing my eyelids down. But I fought to keep them open. I had to keep watch - at least until Eli got out of the shower.

Forcing myself up again, I went through the drawers in the bedroom to find a pair of pajamas for Eli once he got out. The clothes made him look like he was being swallowed when he walked out of the bathroom wearing them.

I had to bite my lip to keep in the snicker.

"Not a word, Aja," He stabbed a finger in my direction, his spare hand holding up the waistband of his pants. "Not. A. Word."

I smirked as he waddled past me. "Guess we're even, then."

Grabbing the remote off the TV stand, Eli flipped it on to some infomercial channel promoting a new way to get rid of wrinkles. "You can sleep if you want," He said, his eyes not leaving the screen. "You look about ready to pass out."

"I am," I sighed, sinking into the corner of the couch again.

"Go ahead," He began flipping through the different channels. "I've got this for now."

I fell asleep to a woman gushing over an "antique" jewelry set.

It felt like almost no time at all had passed before I woke up to the sound of the door being unlocked.

I bolted off the couch, exhaustion replaced with adrenaline as I swung my head around looking for Eli. The TV was still on, some cartoon rerun from when I was still in grade school, but Eli was nowhere to be found.

The last bolt came undone and I went rigid.

The woman from before stepped through the doorway, three styrofoam to-go boxes in her arms. Her face was still blank. Pupils dilated. Hands steady and sure as she laid the boxes out on the table.

I exhaled a breath so deep it was painful. We were safe. But it still took several minutes to get my breathing under control.

With the boxes on the table, the woman stood to the side, watching me with an eerily calm disposition. But the scent of the food won over my attention. Scrambled eggs. French toast. Freshly diced fruits. _Bacon_.

My hands dove forward before I told them to, grabbing at the plastic fork that had come with the box and shoveling the food into my mouth. I was practically drooling as I ate, a thousand flavors exploding in my mouth at once and _God_ it was good. I didn't even notice when the door to the bedroom opened.

"Please tell me I smell what I think I smell."

I turned at the sound of Eli's voice, watching him in the doorway of the room, hands still bunched around the waistband of his pants.

I sighed through a mouthful of french toast. "There you are, you had me worried."

"Yeah," He glanced up and down at my form hunching over the table. "I can see that."

I shrugged. "I got distracted."

"Well," He approached the table with hungry eyes. "It's not a bad thing to be distracted over."

Sitting beside me and grabbing the spare fork, he dove into the eggs and sausages, while I grabbed at the diced fruit with my fingers.

"Yeesh, Aja," Eli snickered at me. "Slow down, you're gonna give yourself the hiccups."

I stuffed half a pancake into my mouth. "You can't tell me what to do."

"Oh, by the way," Eli said through another bite. "I found a computer in the other room, it's busted but I managed to get it fixed enough for the internet to run on it again."

The woman let out a small gasp, barely even a breath. I almost didn't catch it, but her eyes gave it away. The blankness was slowly peeling back, revealing a kind of sympathy hiding in her eyes. But the second she saw I was watching, it vanished.

She swallowed.

Dropping the fork, I locked my hand around her wrist, diving into her mind to see what she'd done in the last few hours. Who she had talked to. If she had said anything about us. If she had called -

She hadn't.

I could feel my control over her, the invisible hands still gripping tight. I hardened it anyway, watching her pupils blow out even more. The blank facade returned. And I released her hand.

By the time the to-go boxes were completely cleared out, my stomach felt happily and heartily full. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten enough comfort food to feel that way.

Dumping the boxes into the garbage, Eli lead me back into the bedroom to a small desktop perched on a desk in the corner. It looked old and beat, but the screen was still blinking with life.

"How did you fix it?" I asked, leaning over Eli's shoulder as he sat in the desk chair.

"Just messed with it until the right wires crossed," He shrugged. "Figured it was the least we could do, you know, squatting in their house and all."

_Hiccup._

I clapped a hand over my mouth, Eli lowering his eyebrows at me over his shoulder. "Hm," He deadpanned. "I wonder who could've predicted that."

I kicked his chair, hiccuping a second time. "Just tell me what you found."

Clicking through the browser, he brought up a map of the town and the surrounding train stations. Even a few bus routes. "If we take this line, it'll take just under two days to get to Philadelphia, but if we -"

_Hiccup._

"Try holding your breath for thirty seconds," Eli said. "Or no, actually, try drinking water upside down -"

"Eli." _Hiccup._ "Focus."

"Right," He turned back to the screen. "Anyway, there's this other line that will take a whole day off our trip -"

"Lively." _Hiccup._

"But," He glanced at me over his shoulder. "It comes with a risk. The line is more frequently traveled, meaning more people to notice us. Not to mention it passes through a lot of creep territory."

"But if it -" _Hiccup._ "- takes a whole day off our journey, that's worth it. The sooner we get to Krel the better."

Eli cringed. "I don't know, Aja. We can't help Krel if we get killed by creeps. Or if we're caught and shipped into a camp."

_Hiccup._ "So let's not get caught."

"We can afford another day -"

"But Krel might not," I said. "He is carrying the most valuable information in the country - maybe even the world - as we speak, Eli. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

He sighed, leaning back in the chair. For a moment, he didn't say anything. Just squinting as he studied the screen.

_Hiccup._

"Fine," He finally said. "We'll do it your way."

I smiled. "Fantastic."

"But," He swerved around in the chair, stabbing a finger at me. "After this, we're not taking any more risks, got it? Once we get to Philly, we're doing things my way."

"Sure, Peppers," I ruffled his hair. "Whatever you say."


	9. 9

**Can't Wait To Tell This Story To My Grandchildren**

We left for the train station just after three in the afternoon, the woman driving us out of the town at my command. The station itself was in the next city over, an hour and a half from Austerlitz. The sight of the dwindling gas gage made me cringe with pity, knowing she probably could barely afford what she had, let alone what we were taking.

So I took the risk of stopping at a gas station and commanding the retailer to fill the woman's tank, free of charge.

"You, Miss Aja," Eli sent me a glare as I climbed into the back with him again. "Are pushing your luck."

"Good thing I have lots of it to push."

Speaking of pushing luck, I'd been hoping the washing machine would've ruined the glow-coats. That way we would've had no choice but to take the risk of getting new ones that would actually help us blend in. But alas, they were machine washable.

Because of course they were.

For now we had them turned inside out as we wore them. It wasn't as warm, but it eased the eye-catching blue. At least a little.

When we arrived at the station, I commanded the woman to buy two tickets from the dipositer out front, then to drive back home and forget she ever met us.

We hid behind the gates of the station, ducking beneath the cement hold as I watched her walk away. I almost saw a hint of tears in her eyes as she vanished down the road. It wasn't until I looked down at the tickets that I realized why. Scrawled over the top were the words: STAY SAFE

"She knew you were mind-melding her," Eli said over my shoulder.

"And she helped us anyway," I muttered.

We both went quiet for a moment.

"You know who this reminds me of?" I finally asked.

"Who?"

I smiled. "Señor Uhl."

He laughed back. "Guess the world isn't so bad as long as people like that stick around."

"Yes," I looked back down at the tickets. "I guess."

Sneaking around the back of the train, we climbed up the cargo hold and slipped in through an ajar emergency exit. The car was long, booths of seats on each side of the aisle. It was starkly warm compared the snowy air outside. And, fortunately, completely empty.

I tugged at the front of my hat, making sure it fully covered my scar before Eli and I situated ourselves into the corner booth. Within ten minutes, a man in a police officer's uniform entered the car, signaling for Eli and I to lower out heads beneath our hats.

His footsteps got slower as he approached, suspicious. "Ticket?" He asked, one hand on the bulge on his belt.

I extended my hand, holding out the slips of paper. Just as he went to grab them, I snapped my hand at him like a fly trap, diving into his mind. The tickets fluttered to the floor.

"We are two, ill adults," I said.

"You are two, ill adults," He repeated.

"No one else should be allowed in this car to prevent the illness from spreading."

His dilated eyes nodded with his head. "No one else should be allowed in this car to prevent the illness from spreading."

Behind me, Eli waved his hand. "These are not the droids you're looking for."

I elbowed him.

"Continue your routine and have no one come to check on us," I said. "Now go."

The man turned away from us stiffly, continuing down the aisle and stepping into the next car.

"Are you sure that'll last this time?" Eli asked.

I stared at the closed door in the man's wake. "Yes, I'm sure."

The train ride was long and quiet, but also warm and comfy. The soft hum of the moving train eased my shot nerves, almost lulling me to sleep the longer we sat. The first few hours we did sleep, in shifts of course.

Eli took a few hours first, then allowed me a few of my own. When I woke up, it was around three in the morning. The only light was from the dim rafters above us, our lone reflections glaring against the dark windows.

Eli was in the bench across from me in the booth, putting his feet up on the table between us as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Eli?" I peered at him from across the table. "Are you asleep with your eyes open?"

"No." He didn't even blink. "I'm just watching a movie."

"You're doing what now?"

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, giving his head a small shake before sitting up to face me. "It's a Green thing," He said. "When you watch movies - or anything really - you memorize it. Beat for beat, word for word. So you can kinda watch them in your head if you concentrate enough."

My eyebrows rose a little. "Lively. What were you watching?"

_"Space Invaders,"_ He adjusted his glasses. "It used to be my favorite show, you know, before . . . all this. Did you ever have a favorite TV show?"

I shrugged, leaning back on the cushions. "Not really. Growing up, Varvatos was the one ruling the television."

"So you're well-versed in, what? Infomercials?"

"Game shows."

"That was my second guess."

The train jostled a little, as if passing over a rough part in the track. We bounced in our seats, the light still coming from beneath our coats shimmering out in the dimness. I frowned down at my collar, wondering who had the bright idea of making a coat glow anyway.

Ha, 'bright' idea.

"These kinda remind me of something," Eli muttered under his breath. When I looked up, he was playing with the end of his sleeve, picking at the sparkling fabric. I wondered if he realized he'd spoken aloud.

"You mean that 'cosplay' thing you were talking about?"

His eyes shot up, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Uh . . . no," He ducked his head. "Something else."

I leaned my elbows on the table. "What?"

He scrunched his shoulders a little. "Just this . . . urban legend, I guess."

I raised an eyebrow. "Another cryptid, Cryptid?"

"Wow," Eli lowered his brows. "Never heard that one before."

I kicked his foot under the table. "Tell me about your legend of urbans. Is it like all your other legends?"

"You mean my conspiracy theories?" He shook his head. "No, those aren't legends. Those are based on facts."

"Sure they are."

"The _point_ is," He shot me a glare over his glasses. "It's this old story Steve used to tell me about."

I tilted my head. "What kind of story?"

Eli thought for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. "Have you ever heard of the Blue Lady?"

My eyes darted to the side. "You mean like Claire?"

"No," He replied. "Like Santa Clause. Kinda. Like I said, it's an urban legend. A story kids in shelters would pass around to each other. Whenever things got especially bad with his dad, Steve and his mom would go to this women's shelter for a while. That's where he heard it."

"What is it?"

He lifted his eyes in thought, exhaling through his nose. "Have you ever been to church?"

"Let's assume not."

"Well, there's this thing they talk about there," He said. "The war in heaven? It was basically God and Satan throwing hands until all the devil guys got thrown down to Earth to make people miserable."

I squinted. ". . . Okay."

"According to the story, the Blue Lady is one of God's angels that decided to follow the devils to Earth - to balance out all their bad with good, you know?"

I nodded.

"It's said the Blue Lady protects children from all evil," He swallowed. "In . . . whatever form they come in. Sickness. Hunger. People. 'Banish the devils from your presence' and stuff. All you have to do is call out her true name."

"What's her true name?"

Eli lowered his eyes, picking at his sleeve again. "It's just a story."

I pursed my lips. "Did kids in the ring talk about her?"

"No," His voice became a whisper, tight and in the back of his throat. "But kids at Leda Corp did."

I felt myself tense.

"They'd say that's why they muzzled us," Eli muttered at the floor. "So . . . you know . . ."

Neither of us said anything for a moment.

"Did you ever try to call out for her anyway?"

Eli paled. Freezing where he sat like he'd been turned to stone. The second I saw his face I wished I could take the words back. I wished I could erase the pain etched so deep into his eyes.

"I gotta go," He blurted, bolting from the booth and scampering into the bathroom across the car. I caught the sight of his hand itching the side of his head before he slammed the door shut.

For a moment, I almost saw Davaros disappearing with him.

Is it strange I wanted so desperately to have something to remember her by? Something more than memories? More than the last excruciating words she said to me?

I guess she called out for angels too, then.

I sighed, burying my head in my arms on the table, the twisting in my stomach making me want to retch. Hadn't Steve said something like this to me? Wanting to take away people's pain? 'Fix it', that's what he'd said. That some of us had been broken, in a way that no one could fix.

Steve had. And Davaros had. And the whole world had. There was no fixing what Psi destroyed. No undoing it.

The Chatter in my pocket has suddenly very heavy, the coordinates of Krel's last known location flashing through my mind.

But that didn't mean we were without hope.

_Thud._

I lifted my head, glancing back at the train bathroom. It sounded like Eli had kicked the door. I lowered my head again.

_Thud-thud-thWAP._

I bolted up a second time. That - that sounded like slapping. The sound a fist makes when it meets skin.

What was Eli doing?

Rising from the booth, I crossed the dim car to the bathroom door. It was locked, so I couldn't have opened it if I wanted to, but at least it wasn't connected to the other cars.

. . . Was it?

"Uh, sir?" I rapped my knuckles on the door, lowering my voice a little. "Are you okay in there?"

No answer.

Leaning towards the entrance of the car, I peered down the window on the closed double doors. Each car was connected by a short set of stairs. Was the bathroom double sided? Could someone else have gotten in -

"Sir!" I knocked harder. "Answer or I'll kick the door in!"

Silence.

Until . . . until . . .

What was that?

I pressed my ear to the crack in the door jam, straining my ears for the sound. Like how busted speakers sound. Or -

Or muffled screaming.

"Don't move."

I froze. Icy horror went down my spine like someone had poured water down the back of my shirt. Something hard and metallic pressed into my side.

"Put your hands behind your head."

I could smell cigarettes as I raised my shaking hands. Cigarettes and tobacco.

"Now turn around - slowly."

My serrator was still hooked onto the waistband of my pants, hidden beneath my coat. If I could get out of gun point, even for just a split second, I could get us out of here. We were already this close to Krel -

The man standing before me could be summed up in one word: unnerving.

His face was so boyish, I almost believed he wasn't any older than me. But his unshaven jaw gave his age away. That and the yellowness of his teeth. The grime under his fingernails and collar. The crazed crow's feet around his eyes.

"Now don't you move, darlin'," He licked his lips. "I got no problem with blowin' your insides right out."

He was wrapped up to his neck. Gloves. Scarves. Even a hat. His bare, greasy face was my only shot. But it was also next to impossible with his gun still stabbing at my ribs.

"Billie!" The man's shout grated from years of smoking, whistling through his chipped teeth. "I got the girl!"

The lock on the bathroom door clicked open, a woman with a greasy ponytail appearing in the wake. She was holding Eli against her, one hand clamped over his mouth, and the other burying a gun in his hair.

Both of his eyes were filled with tears when he looked at me, one of them colored red and purple from bruising. But it was his cold glare that made me want to disappear.

"And I got the shrimp here!" The woman snickered, her voice just as gravely as the man's. "Ha, I knew there was something off when they wouldn't let nobody back here."

"Yeah," The man grinned. "Don't know how you got those assholes on your side -"

With one move, they shoved us forward into the nearest booth. Eli and I collided on impact, collapsing onto the cushions of the bench.

"- but you're not their problem anymore."

The woman lowered her gun, letting the man come forward to corner us as they laughed. I pulled Eli behind me, squishing him between my back and the wall to bar him from the attackers. My eyes were darting back and forth, searching for a way out. But until we reached the next stop, there wasn't even a way off this train.

"I'll go get the others," The woman said, nodding towards the door that lead to the other cars. "You'll keep 'em here?"

"Oh don't you worry," The man gave me a sick grin, coming to kneel on the edge of the bench. "I've got 'em."

And the woman disappeared.

If I was going to do something, I needed to do it now.

My eyes darted back to Eli, feeling him tremble behind me. "Gnomes," He whispered, barely even audible against my ear.

"Hey!" The man cocked the gun. "Keep your mouths shut!"

My eyes burned as I raised them back to his, the barrel of the gun barely six inches from my chest. "Or what?" I spat.

I had a split second to get ahead. The moment where I watched his finger slip towards the trigger. Where I felt Eli duck against the wall of the booth. The moment adrenaline took over.

I shot forward, diving head on into the man's chest. He tumbled down onto his back beneath me, his shot going wild as I knocked his hands to the side. He was scrambling to re-aim, but I managed to kick the gun out of his hands, pinning his wrist down with my foot.

"You little -"

I crammed my hands over his face, and I was in.

"You will take your gun," I rasped. "And carry it to the next car. You will not let anyone near the door no matter what. It is a matter of life and death to you, do you under-"

"Aja!"

Eli's warning came a split second too late.

Blinding, white pain exploded against the back of my head. Next thing I knew, I was sprawled out on the carpet of the car, spots blurring in and out of my vision.

I tried to struggle when I felt hands on me. I tried to call out for Eli. But all I could see was darkness, until it swallowed me whole.

**(A/N): fun fact, 'the Blue Lady' is based on an actual urban legend i've heard of. there's a thousand different versions, but this is the one i finagled (can ya guess why?) if any of you have heard of her - or anything like it - tell me in the comments! oral and urban legends are *legit***


	10. 10

**Being Punched In The Gut Two Consecutive Times [Maybe Three]**

**(A/N): finally, i present ya'll with a decently sized chapter ****(brace yourselves)**

Eyes open. Eyes closed.

It almost didn't matter.

The room I'd awoken in was barely lit, the only light from the setting moon out the window above me.

I was sitting cross legged on the cement floor, my hands cuffed around a pole behind me. There was a course rag tied around my mouth, making me gag from the bitter taste. All the while, the back of my head was still screaming in pain, sharp throbs echoing in and out.

I heard Eli before I saw him, little hiccups and gasps as he cried. Craning my aching neck, I made out Eli's figure in the moonlight, sitting with his back towards mine and his hands chained to the same pole. There was a cut below his ear.

I tried to say his name, but it sounded like a grunt through the gag. At least it was enough for him to look back at me. He was gagged too.

I stretched out my fingers, wanting to speak to his mind. Wanting to comfort him. But he jerked his hands away, a loud rattle from the cuffs going through the quiet room. I could almost feel how angry he was, like it was radiating off of him in hot waves. But the glare he sent me over his shoulder turned everything to ice again.

Speaking of ice, we were feeling it full force with our coats removed. Our shoes were gone. My serrator. Eli's jacket. My hat -

A wash of nauseating fear fell over me at the realization. They'd seen my brand. They would know who I was. Who we both were.

Oh God.

Golden light came seeping through the crack under the door, almost blinding against the darkness my eyes had adjusted to. Footsteps crossed the hallway before our room, voices fading in and out.

"- familiar faces, no?"

"Oh come on! Everyone knows that Wizard chick killed the Creepslayerz! It can't be him."

My throat closed. Tears pricked at my eyes.

_Steve._

All the League knew of the second Trollmarket was that a large struggle had commenced. A battle on a small scale. A chase. But we never knew the outcome. We had no clue how it had ended for the Trollhunters. For Steve.

A muffled sob from Eli burst behind me, making me tremble to my core. I forced myself to shake the thought from my head anyway. Steve had to be out there. He had to survive.

He had to.

"And what about the Tarron girl?"

I swallowed.

"You kiddin'? Do you have any idea what trolls will pay for that flesh-bag? I say we hand her over."

Flesh-bag? Is that what they were calling us now? Figures. It's easy to traffic a person back and forth if you only see them as a lump of flesh for sale.

"What 'bout the shrimp?"

"Just throw him in the ring with the other Greens. He might give a good show against that Blue we got, yeah?"

Behind me, Eli choked on a gasp. I felt my eyes narrow at the dark. Over my dead body were these psychos taking Eli anywhere.

"I'm tellin' ya, he's one of 'em! I know a Creepslayer when I see one!"

"For the last time! The Creepslayerz are dead! Besides, these fellas had a League Chatter on 'em. You really think a Creepslayer would join the League?"

A jolt of cold went over my finger as Eli curled his pink around it. I fell into his mind like I'd tripped, stumbling through several memories before I could fight my way to the image he was trying to show me.

The tools he'd used to hot-wire the ambulance - they were still in the waistband of his pants. Somehow, the gnomes had missed them.

If I could reach them - if I could get them into Eli's hands - then maybe he could use them to get us free.

Stretching out my fingers, I pushed the cuffs as far as they would go and then some, feeling the icy metal cut into my wrists. Eli pushed his back flat against the pole, getting as close to me as he could. But my fingers were still only brushing his belt loops.

I gritted my teeth from behind the gag, straining my fingers as Eli shifted. Finally, I felt my middle finger hook onto a belt loop, using it to tug out the waistband. The fingertips on my second hand barely brushed along the inner lining of his pants, feeling along the denim.

The skin beneath my knuckles burned from the stretch, an ache going all the way into my forearm from the strain. But I kept at it. They had to be here somewhere -

There!

I had to toss my torso forward, dragging Eli back even more to get my fingers wrapped around the bundle of tools enough to lift them. They were halfway out his pants when the door flew open.

The golden light seared behind my eyelids, forcing me to jerk away and drop the tools. They fell right back into Eli's waistband, far from my fingers yet again.

Damn it.

There was a woman standing the doorway - but not the one we'd seen on the train. She was taller. Slimmer. And far cleaner. Her hair was cropped short and her eyes clear. Her posture was rod-straight and her gaze on us was perfectly even. I was sure I'd never seen her before in my life.

Then why did she look so familiar?

She approached wordlessly, rounding her slow steps to come to my front. Her eyes didn't look away from mine once, peering at me like a caged animal at the zoo. Because that's exactly what I was to her.

She lowered herself to one knee before me, tilted her head as her eyes darted across my face. God, she looked so familiar. To the point that the crown of my head ached from trying to remember. Had I seen her in someone's head before?

Why did it look like she was trying to recognize me, too?

For a moment, something soft appeared in her eyes. Not sympathy - or even pity. Something else. An emotion that made her eyes rim red.

I had seen those eyes somewhere before, I was _sure_ of it. The way she was looking at me only confirmed. We must have met before.

But . . . _where?_

Her hand was almost trembling as she reached up, timidly leaning closer. I leaned away from her, my back pressing against the hard pole. But that only made her creep closer, the light reflecting tears in her eyes as her fingers stretched toward my cheek.

I fought the urge to flinch away. If she touched me I could get into her head. I could get us out of here.

But at the last second, she pulled away.

"Oi!" A shout came from the hallway. "You've got 'em, Miss Fancy Pants?"

The woman leaned back, regaining her composure as she looked out the open door. "Yes," She said. "I have them."

Behind me, Eli stiffened.

"Keep a good eye on those flesh-bags," The voice spat. "They're slippery."

"Yes," She turned back to me, a calm, knowing look in her eyes. Then her eyes were over my shoulder and on Eli's back.

She reached past me before I could even try to stop her, prodding into Eli's waistband with her fingers. The motion was smooth and low, hidden from the hallway view. But it was enough to make Eli jolt.

I caught a flash of silver as the tools were brought into the light. But then I felt the warm metal brush my knuckles as she pressed them against Eli's palm, long enough for him to close his hesitant fingers on them.

She leaned back, reaching over to run her fingers down a strand of my hair. The same emotion was back in her eyes. Her voice was thick with salt when she spoke.

"I will keep a good eye on them."

I stared at her for a solid thirty seconds, wondering if I had just imagined the transaction. But the clicking behind me was all the confirmation I needed. I questioned her with my eyes, trying to see if she really knew what she had just done.

All I got in return was a small smile, halfway between gentle and smug.

A glint of blue and my eyes were lowered to her left hand, resting easily on her knee before me. Wrapped around the two first fingers sat a ring, a polished, cobalt metal that gleamed brilliantly in the moonlight. The two bands were only connected by a plain, smooth bar over top her fingers.

But the way she held it is what caught my attention. How she held it just so, for me to have the perfect view of it. Eli was having a hell of a time trying to crane around, to catch a glimpse of what I was seeing.

She rose to her feet with certainty, her shoes scraping on the concrete as she walked across the room to the sink. Now that there was more light in the room, I could see that it looked like a kitchen. Not the kind you would find in a house. The kind you would find on a campground. With nothing but a sink, some cupboards, and an oven that was never meant to cook anything.

Was that where we were now? A campground?

_Click._

I felt Eli's handcuffs come loose, his hands wasting no time in grabbing at mine to restart his work. All the while, my eyes stayed trained on the woman's back, watching her pull a dusty cup from the cupboard and fill it with whatever was coming out of the sink faucet.

_Click._

The cuffs came loose.

When the woman turned, she had a kind of grace as she approached. More gentle smugness, more strange emotion locked behind her eyes. Coming to kneel before me again, she raised the cup, carefully leaning it towards my face. Despite throwing my head back as far as I could, the frigid liquid still spilled over my lips. I nearly choked on it, it tasted so bitter.

She set the cup at my side, her eyes not leaving mine for a moment. "Be ready," She whispered. Then rose and walked out into the hallway.

I stared at the empty doorway in her wake, questioning my sanity on a whole new level.

What. Just. _Happened?_

It took me until the moment we heard footsteps approaching for me to realize that neither of us had moved. When the shadow of the figures fell over us, I dropped my chin to my chest, flicking Eli's fingers to tell him to do the same. Pretending to be asleep was a skill I'd learned at Thurmond. Along with the fact that it almost always brought you an advantage.

"Here they are," A voice came - the man that had cornered us on the train. "The little flesh-bags that are gonna pay for next week's dinner."

"C'mon," The second voice - the woman from the train. "Let's get 'em in the van before they start playin' dirty."

_We_ played dirty?

I heard feet shuffling around me. The breeze of bodies moving past us. I could sense the presence when one of them knelt before me.

"You ever wonder why her bounty is so high? I mean, even for a traitor."

"She's a slippery little bitch, that's why."

You have no idea.

"Who cares, anyway? We gotta load up our treasure before sunrise. Throw me the key."

_Now or never, Aja._

An arm brushed mine, reaching behind me. Sour breath hit my ear. Then a small gasp.

"Wait a minute -"

My foot was up before my eyes were, slamming into the man's stomach and sending him flying backwards. I ripped the gag off as I listened to the woman shriek, diving at me until Eli leapt to his feet and crashed his shoulder into her midsection.

"You little shit!" The woman reared her head as she hit the wall, winding back her arm and cracking her elbow against Eli's head. He went spiraling to the ground.

"Eli!" I screamed.

Suddenly, the woman was a blur coming towards me, clawing her fingers into my sides and slamming me back until I hit the lip of the sink. Her fist bashed across my face before I could stop it, hot blood spurting from my nose.

I put my knee up her ribs as a response, blocking another blow before thrusting my free hand down her collar and grabbing her bare, soily throat.

_SLEEP_, I screamed into her mind. And she dropped.

The man was suddenly revealed behind her, standing in her place with the gun in his hands. "I told you I had no problem blowing your insides out, darlin'," He cocked the gun, giving me a wild grin. "Good thing them trolls want you dead or alive -"

_Thunk._

His eyes rolled back in his head, his body lurching towards me. I kicked him away, watching him go slack against the concrete.

The woman from before was standing there, my serrator in her hands. The tip of it was now stained with red.

"I believe," She wiped the color off on her sleeve, "this is yours." And tossed it to me.

I caught it out of the air, examining the clip to see that it was still fully loaded. I peered back up at her, and she smiled.

"Who _are_ you?"

"Izita?" Eli was using the wall to pry himself up, one hand pulling the gag off his mouth. "Is that really you?"

The woman turned, a look of pride in her eyes. "It is good to see you've fared well, Creepslayer."

"You two know each other?" I glanced between them. "How?"

Eli was beaming at her, despite how raw his face was. When his eyes darted to me, a bit of softness was added. "Aja," He said. "Izita works with your parents."

The shock would've made me stumble back if I weren't already against the counter. I could barely even feel my legs for a moment. When I looked back at the woman, her eyes were shining.

"You . . ." It was suddenly very difficult to talk. "You know my mama and papa?"

She gave a single nod.

"What . . ." I had to swallow. "What are you doing _here?"_

"This ring of gnomes has gotten near out of control with trafficking," She said. "So we have come to finish what the Creepslayerz started."

"We?"

"Your parents have more people on their side than you think," Eli stepped forward. "It's like their own little resistance, remember? When I was with them, I gave them some instruction on how to get kids out of gnome rings. Looks like they put it to good use."

"And how lucky you are that we did," She beckoned us towards the door. "Or else you would be halfway to Morando by now."

I held back a shudder. "Don't remind me."

We followed her down the hallway, which led off into one other storage room and then opened to a snowy pavillion. The darkened woods gave it away. Definitely a campground.

Izita herded us into the storage room, ripping open dusty crates to reveal both glow coats, along with our shoes and my Chatter. I didn't even realize how cold I was until I wrapped my coat around me.

"Is anyone else here?" I asked, one foot propped up on a bin as I tied the laces on my boots.

"Yes," She replied. "They are camped just outside the pavilion. You will have to evade them long enough to reach the highway past the tree line. There are more campgrounds or even a few houses you could use for the time being. It will only be a few days before I can retrieve you -"

"Wait," I pulled my foot off the bin. "Retrieve us? What are you talking about?"

She blinked at me. "Is that not why you're here?"

"Is what not why we're here?" Eli asked.

Her eyes didn't stray from mine. "Did you not come to this area looking for your parents?"

I couldn't breathe for a moment, my eyes set so wide it hurt. "My mama and papa," I choked, "are _here?"_

"No," Izita said. "But they are close. You will have to wait a few days, but I can escort you back to them."

Every other noise drowned out after those words. But my brain wasn't full of static, it was full of sludge. Slow and murky as it processed the information making my heart beat in my throat.

Mama and Papa were close. I could go back to them, hold them in my arms again. I could make them know me again. I could give back the memories I'd stolen all those years ago.

After all this time, they were _so close -_

My Chatter was suddenly too heavy to hold.

\- but so was Krel.

I lowered myself down to sit on the bin, not trusting my legs to hold me up. The dread tore through me from head to toe. It made my body too heavy to lift. My ears too numb to hear. I couldn't see anything past the smear of colors through stinging tears.

I knew my heart could ache, but I never knew it could burn. Like someone had set fire to my chest.

"Aja?"

Eli's voice brought me back to reality, his hand resting softly on my shoulder. Tears fell as I looked up at him, my cheeks stinging from the cold.

"Tell her why we're really here," He said. "It's okay."

I could see the understanding in his eyes along with the moisture. It made the dread weigh all the more thinking of it. How many times he had been so desperate to see his own family, just to have them ripped away over and over again.

I don't know where the strength to speak came from, but when my voice came out, I didn't recognize it.

"We are looking for my brother," I turned my tear-filled eyes to Izita. "He found my parent's cure for Psi."

The composure fell from Iztia's face once more, a mixture of shock and horror showing through. ". . . It still exists?"

Eli tilted his head. "Faikolv and Coranda don't know it does?"

She managed to shake her head.

My eyes lowered, staring into nothing. "Krel found it by accident then."

No one spoke.

And I wished I could've screamed.

"We need to find him," I finally choked out, my knuckles white around the Chatter. "He's carrying that intel on him - it's not safe - I can't -"

"I understand," She said, resting her warm hand on my cold shoulder. There it was again, the emotion erupting in her eyes as she knelt beside the bin. Like she was searching for something across my features.

I squinted, now eye-level with her. "Have we met before?"

Her smile was sad and pained as she lowered her eyes. "No," She whispered. "But my daughter . . ."

That's when it clicked.

Her hair. Her eyes. Even the slope of her nose.

"Davaros," I breathed. "You're . . . you're her mother, aren't you?"

She looked just like her. From her cheek bones to her chin. All of it was Davaros. My hand reached up without my permission, brushing against her face just to make sure it was real. That _she_ was real.

"That's how you know my parents," I said. "You worked with them on the base."

She nodded, slowly and gently. A motion that I'd seen Davaros mimic a thousand times. It made me tear into pieces all over again.

"I'm so - so _sorry," _I buried my face in my hands, a sob ripping up my throat. "I - I couldn't save her - I couldn't protect her - she needed me and I wasn't there and now she's - she's _gone."_

"No, no," Her hands delicately pulled at mine, gently brushing away my tears. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I was not always a part of your parent's resistance, I only joined when this one," She put her hand on Eli's knee where he sat beside me, "told me your story."

I looked at him with shock and disbelief, only getting a shy smile in return.

Izita squeezed my hands. "You cared for my daughter when I could not. You protected her with everything you had."

I lowered my head, another sob bubbling up. "It wasn't enough."

"It is a debt I can never repay," She lifted my chin, wiping her thumb under my eyes. "To you, or your family name."

I was trembling under her gaze and her hands. Everything inside me was too full. Too much. I was bursting at the seams. Drowning in the air.

Izita took both of my hands again, squeezing them close to her chest. I could feel her tethering me down. Keeping me grounded in reality before I could slip away again.

"Thank you," She said, tears falling freely from her eyes. "Thank you, for my daughter."

It was a noise outside, a shuffling of feet, that made us look up. That reminded us just what kind of situation we were in.

"You need to go now," Izita pulled me up on unsteady feet. "Keep as low as you can, especially with how . . . _bright_ your coats are. If they catch you, I will do what I can, but you will need to defend yourselves."

I nodded, swallowing to keep myself together.

"Get to the highway and it should lead you back to the train station. Will you be able to find your way from there?"

"Yes," Eli replied. "We'll be fine from there."

"Then go," She lead us towards a back door, popping it open to let in a cold burst of air.

"Wait," I grabbed her arm before she could push me through, my fingers digging in. "Davaros, she - she wanted me to tell you something."

Her eyes widened, filling with fresh tears. "She did?"

"She's sorry for not staying in the car," I croaked. "She thought of you everyday - she loved you so much and - and -"

Izita pulled me into her arms before the sobs could start, letting me bury my face in her collar.

"- and I loved her so much."

"So did I," She whispered, smoothing my hair over with her hand. "So did I."

Then she kissed the top of my head, the way a mother does, and she pushed me back towards the door. "Now go."

I felt Eli's hand close around mine, pulling me out into the cold.

"Tell my mama and papa I'll find them," I blurted, stepping backwards into the snow. "Tell them I'll find Krel and I'll - I'll bring us back together."

Izita gave me a single nod. "I will. Now _go."_

And I did.

It's hard to explain how I felt, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. The cold and wind and snow barely held any of my attention. But inside, it was like fireworks were going off in my chest. I felt on fire and frozen at once. Bursting and crushed. Broken and put back together.

All I could do was cry while I ran, tears streaming and freezing to my face in the cold. Eli gave me a sideways glance as we ran, along with a small smile. His eyes were just as wet. And I had a feeling he knew just what this felt like.

We darted as deep into the tree line as we dared, only passing through the thickest branches to disguise the glow. The sun had barely risen, the tiniest gleam of light on the starry horizon.

I caught sight of the moon, still hanging in the sky and glinting down at us. I wondered if Davaros could see how beautiful it was.

"Hey!"

The shout made the adrenaline in me spike.

"Donnie, you see that!"

These _damn coats -_

"Get back here flesh-bags!"

"Come on!" I waved Eli deeper into the woods, snow spraying up to my shins.

Gunshots rang out behind us, making us duck our heads as we sprinted. One shot - two - then -

An ear splitting pop rang through the right side of my head, forcing me to trip over my feet and topple onto the frozen ground. When I finally shook the blurs from my vision, I saw a puddle of red melting the snow beneath me.

And a terrible sting radiated through my ear.

"Get up!" Eli grabbed my elbow, wrenching me to my feet. "We gotta go!"

More shots sounded, figures and shadows appearing through the trees. My hand went instinctively to my serrator, but I knew if I stood my ground it wouldn't be much of a fight. So I stumbled to my feet and fell into pace with Eli.

"The highway's that way!" He shouted, throwing his arm behind us.

"Change of plans!" I replied.

We rounded another thicket of trees, opening up to a clearing with a back road paved down the middle of it. It was tracked enough for the snow to have melted on patches of the asphalt, giving us a path to take that wouldn't leave a trail.

"There!" I threw a finger towards it. "Come on!"

"Don't you flesh-bags take another step!"

The bullets tore through the branches beside us, forcing us to dive down on the snow to avoid them. I looked back over my shoulder, ignoring the feeling of blood clotting in my hair. A man was less than ten yards away, holding a shotgun as he steadily approached.

I leapt to my feet, drawing my serrator and widening my stance. "Eli," I nodded my head towards the road. "Go, I'll hold them off."

"Aja -"

"I said _go!"_

He didn't stick around to argue.

I turned back to the man, cocking my serrator and firing once over his shoulder. I had to duck against the tree trunk to dodge his counter fire. Whipping back around the bark, I leveled my weapon with his figure and fired into his stomach.

This time, it hit.

He made a hard grunt, freezing over his steps and collapsing in the reddening snow. I barely had time to process the scene before a pair of headlights flashed in my peripherals.

I whirled towards the lights, catching the large truck zooming down the road a split second before Eli did. He didn't even have time to scream.

"No, no, _no!"_

His body cracked against the front of the vehicle, folding over it in a way that made me sick. The screeching of the breaks ripped through the air, he body bending against the metal as the truck slowed. When it stopped, he went flying back onto the asphalt, a broken heap on the pavement.

_"Eli!"_

I bolted to his side, my serrator clattering to the ground. Blood was trickling down either corners of his mouth. The left lens of his glasses were cracked, the frames nearly knocked right off his face. His eyes were fluttering open and closed, the green in them threatening to roll back.

Fresh tears burned in my eyes, my hands hovering and trembling over his frame. I didn't - I didn't know what to do -

The sound of a door opening and closing forced my eyes up, seeing a man stand there. No younger than forty, wild brown hair, and an unshaven chin. He was wearing a bathrobe.

"Oh my - oh my God, did I - wait a minute -"

His words were just as frazzled as he looked, his face pale with shock and terror.

"You're - you're -" He raised a finger towards me, his eyes focused on the brand between my brows.

A shout beyond the tree line made me turn, hearing more footsteps crash through the snow. Seeing their shadows edge closer. There was nowhere to run now.

"Come on," Suddenly the man was on the ground across from me, slipping his hands under Eli's arms. "Can you, you know, grab his feet?"

I just stared, mouth open and eyes still leaking.

"Come on!" He cried, looking just as desperate as I was. "They're coming!"

Scrambling to get my serrator, I grabbed Eli's legs and we lifted him off the pavement together. The man opened two doors on the back of his truck, revealing the remnants of some kind of kitchen. It took me until then realize it was a food truck, the words: TACO EL GUIRITO printed in large letters on the side.

It was oddly familiar.

We slid Eli onto the grimy floor, my feet kicking against the asphalt to climb inside with him. What little daylight was beginning to appear vanished as the doors slammed shut. The scent of aged lettuce and dirty laundry took over my nose. Then the truck's engine spurred to life.

We were moving. Slowly climbing in speed as the gunshots faded into the distance.

I didn't realize how tightly I was holding onto Eli until he whimpered. But somehow, I couldn't bring myself to let go.


	11. 11

**Taco Tuesday To The Rescue**

**(A/N): hehe, this totally isn't late wut are you talkin about**

"It's gonna be okay, uh, it is Aja, right?"

I lifted my head, my cheeks chapped red from how long I'd been crying. Maybe it was a release from all the adrenaline. Maybe it was from shock. Maybe it was from everything my heart had been put through in the last thirty minutes, and watching one of my best friends be hit by a truck was the last straw.

Either way, I had our driver very concerned.

There was a wall dividing the driver and passenger seats from the kitchen, a single door connecting them. A door which was now hanging open to allow our driver a perfect view of us.

Sort of.

I sniffled, wiping under my nose as I turned to look at him. "How - how do you know my name?"

"Are you kidding?" He gave a nervous laugh. "You're a Tarron - _everybody_ knows you guys."

No, I thought. Nobody knows us.

It made me cry a little harder.

"Uh, it's - it's okay, um . . . oh wait! I've got an idea!"

I felt the truck slow to a stop, pulling the side of the woodland road we were on.

The sun had rose barely an hour ago, the windshield giving us a view of the gray snow clouds above us. The silver light did just enough to illuminate the contents of the truck's kitchen. Aluminum counters on either side, lined with labeled food containers. Tiled floor scattered with dirty laundry and old blankets. And a makeshift bed stuffed into the corner that Eli was now occupying.

We were using bags of ice from the freezer for his ribs. The skin looked as though it had been spray painted red, the beginnings of a terrible bruise. It was even cracked and bleeding in some places. Yet, miraculously, he had no broken ribs.

Other than his torso, the only other wound he had was in his mouth, where he'd managed to bite a hole straight through the center of his tongue. I thought he'd bitten it clean off, there was so much blood.

Other than the ice, there wasn't much else I could do for him. There was no hospital to take him to. No infirmary. No panic button. All I could do was sit by his side and wait for him to wake - and hope beyond hope nothing else was wrong.

The man stepped out of the driver's seat, twirling around and coming in through the door to the kitchen. "It's breakfast time," He said, striding past me to one of the cupboards above us. "And there's no better way to start the day than with one of Uncle Stu's burritos. So here, take your pick."

When he turned to me again, he was holding out a laminated menu, the tips yellowed and caked with fingerprints.

"Stu?" I croaked.

"Or Stuart," He shrugged. "Whichever, I guess."

My eyes fell back to the menu, the words jumbling back and forth through the tears.

"Here," He pushed it into my hands. "Go ahead. Choose whatever you'd like. I know I don't have the freshest ingredients, but I can make do. Besides, I promise nothing's expired - not _too_ expired, anyway."

I looked up at him. "Why?"

"Well, a good burrito always makes me feel better - you know what they say, the fastest way to the heart is through the stomach. And you're probably hungry after all that running, I know I would be -"

"No," I shook my head. "Why did you help us?"

"Well," He gave a nervous laugh. "It looked like you needed it."

I just stared at him.

"Besides," He lowered himself onto one knee, getting eye-level with me. "I figured it was the least I could do, you know, after . . . squishing your friend there."

I looked back at Eli, sprawled out on the unwashed sheets with his breath coming in short gasps. But in a way, he looked calm. Resting. He hadn't looked like that in a long time.

I looked back down at the menu in my hands, wiping under my raw nose one last time. I pointed to the title in the left corner. "That one."

His eyebrows raised a little. "Are you sure? That one is not for the faint of heart."

That only made me want it more. "Yes, I'm sure."

"But are you _absolutely_ sure?" His eyes widened, his voice taking on a dramatic tone. "This is the atomic, super-double, _bowel-loosening_, Diablo Maximus breakfast burrito - with extra hot sauce."

A little giggle bubbled up from my throat. "Lively."

He laughed too, more wheezing than giggling as he took the menu back. "Alright then, one Diablo Maximus breakfast burrito coming right up."

He stood and walked between the counters, pulling out cartons and boxes of ingredients to line them on the counter. He didn't need to look at a recipe, he knew it by heart. His motions were fluid and purposeful, quick and accurate as he finished wrapping the burrito in tin foil.

It was bigger than I expected, and heavier as he placed it in my hands. I didn't realize how hungry I was until my mouth began watering.

"Now, don't worry if you can't finish it, most people can barely go two or three bites before -"

I was done before he'd finished talking.

"Mmm," I hummed, crinkling the foil between my hands. "That was lively. Can I have another one?"

Stuart was dumbfounded. _"Another_ one?"

I smiled, nodding eagerly.

He let out a small laugh, starting towards the counters again. "Alrighty then - oh, by the way, how's your ear?"

I reached up to touch the side of my head, examining the dried blood that came off onto my fingers. The bullet had barely nicked the shell of my ear. Only a scrape. It throbbed and it bled, but it wouldn't kill.

Just like Mama said.

"It's okay."

"Who were those guys anyway?"

"Gnomes," I replied. "Traffickers."

"Eeesh," Stuart shuddered. "How'd you get mixed up with those guys?"

"They got mixed up with _us,"_ I said. "They hunt kids like us - like trolls."

"Oh yeah," He knelt again to hand me the second burrito, his tone going somber. "Um, sorry, I guess."

I didn't answer, my mouth too full of breakfast burrito. I finished with a happy hum and tossed my wrappers into the overflowing trash bin. It was so full, the crumpled slabs of tin foil just bounced off the top.

"Yeah," Stuart winced, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry it's not the cleanest in here . . . I haven't had guests for a while."

"How long have you been living in your truck?" I asked.

"Eh," He shrugged. "Since everything went downhill, you know? I used to own this electronic store," He waved his hands to present the title, _"Stuart Electronics_, I know it's not the most creative name - but hey, it was home. Of course, in times like these it's not exactly the kind of thing you can hang onto, if you know what I mean."

I nodded.

"But at least I had this baby paid off," He patted his hand against the wall. "It's not so bad, really. Now home is wherever I want it to be."

I chuckled under my breath, my chest getting a little lighter. It didn't sound so bad actually. Driving around in a truck, with food as good as the Diablo Maximus breakfast burrito, going wherever the wind blew. It sounded amazing.

"Where do you go?" I asked.

"Everywhere," Stuart beamed. "I've been all over the world, I'll have you know. Had every job you can imagine - except plumbing. Never tried that one."

"Lively," I rocked forward. "You must have so many stories."

"Oh, sure," He waved a hand. "But what about you? Where are you two headed?"

The question caught me off guard more than it should have. "Uh -"

Behind us, Eli shifted.

I bolted around, crawling over to his side as I watched his eyes blink open. They were bloodshot and swollen, a little bruise where his glasses met the bridge of his nose, but the green in them were as bright as ever.

". . . Aja?" He breathed, his chest rising and falling with sharp, stacotto breathes. "Where . . . what . . .?"

"Shh," I ran my hand over his hair. "We're okay, Eli. That's all you need to worry about."

"But what . . ." He groaned, his face pinching in pain. "What . . . happened -"

"That's my bad," Stuart popped up behind me. "Hit you with my dear _Taco El Guirito_ \- Sorry."

Eli's eyes blew wide at the sight of him, his feet kicking back with what little strength they had. His hands shot back defensively, but it caused one of the ice bags on his torso to slip, a small cry coming from his throat as he winced back down.

"Relax," I said, readjusting the bag. "We're safe. It's okay."

_"Okay?"_ Eli wheezed. "We . . . we don't even know . . . this guy! He could . . . be taking us to trolls . . . as we speak!"

"We are safe," I repeated, opening my coat to reveal the serrator still hooked onto the waistband of my pants. "You need to rest. The hit you took wasn't light."

He cursed, leaning his head back against the pillow. "God," He muttered. "It _stinks_ in here."

Stuart lowered his eyebrows.

Moments after the complaint, Eli's face contorted with pain, his mouth opening for a silent yelp.

"What?" I leaned forward. "What's wrong?"

"Hurts . . ." He gritted his teeth. "Hurts . . . to breathe . . ."

"Do it shallowly," I said. "You're going to be fine, I'll make sure of it."

He shook his head but said nothing. He didn't need to. I could see enough of his reply in his eyes: _There's no way to be sure of anything._

But I could still hope.

"There's a gas station not far from here," Stuart said, rising to his feet. "I've got a few tickets left, so I'll fill her up there. If you need anything, just holler, okay?"

I nodded. Eli glared.

Then, taking a hint from Eli, Stuart walked back to the driver's seat and pulled the door closed behind him.

It was dark without the light from the windshield, the dimness only broken from the side window that had been cracked open for ventilation. Not to mention how the chill was beginning to seep through my coat.

"How -" Eli choked. "How bad . . . is it?"

I shifted, sitting cross legged on the mattress as I pursed my lips. "It could be worse."

"It could . . . always be worse," He coughed, grimacing from the pain. "How bad - scale from . . . one to ten . . ."

It took me a full five seconds to reply. "Do you want to see for yourself?"

He hesitated, then nodded.

Gently removing the bags, I delicately lifted his shirt as far up as his under arms would allow. He had to strain his neck to look down at himself, but the second he did, he went pallid.

The bruises had fully formed in the hours he'd been asleep, leaving his torso caked in black and blue, the edges warped and swollen from the colors. The cracks in the skin had scabbed over, twitching with ever breath he took.

"Oh . . ." His face crumpled a little, tears in his eyes. "Oh _no . . ."_

"Hey," I lowered his shirt, replacing the bags and slipping my hand into his. "It will be okay, Eli. We'll figure it out."

He kept shaking his head. "Aja, how . . . can we trust this guy? We don't even . . . _know_ him."

Tears filled my own eyes, matching his. "What else can I do?"

Eli could only meet my gaze for so long before dropping his head in defeat, finally understanding. There was nowhere else we could go. Nothing else I give him.

We were stuck.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my eyes burning into the sheets. "I should have listened to you. None of this would've happened if I had."

He looked up, mouth open in surprise.

"You were right," I forced my eyes to meet his. "We can't help Krel if we're caught or dead. I - I'm sorry, Eli."

His gaze lowered with dread. "I'm sorry, too. I knew . . . it wasn't safe. I should've done more . . . to convince you."

A cold tear fell down my cheek. "I should've been more patient."

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. And for a moment, that's all we needed.

"Can I . . . ask you something?"

I nodded, bringing his hand up to hold it under my chin.

"What . . ." He hesitated. "What are we . . . gonna do when we find . . . Krel?"

I peered at him, seeing all the doubt in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"He'll know me," He said, "right?"

I nodded slowly, my eyes falling as I realized where this conversation was going. "Yes."

"So, how do we . . . explain you?"

My gaze stayed trained on the mattress, my insides numb. "We'll say I'm a friend, of yours and the League."

"But . . ." Eli bit his split lip. "What if . . . he recognizes -"

"He won't."

"But what if -"

"It's not going to happen, Eli," I snapped. "Please change the subject."

His head dropped back onto the pillows, his lips pinned unpleasantly together. My eyes went to the floor, ignoring the prick of guilt in my chest.

"Do you think Steve's okay?"

I looked up again.

"Those guys . . . they said -"

"It doesn't matter what they said," I whispered. "We know Steve better."

"But . . . do you think . . . he's okay?"

I swallowed. "Yes."

"How can you be . . . so sure?"

I took a shaky breath. "I'm not."

There wasn't much else to say after that.

Eli rested for about an hour or so, me nodding off a few times while I sat on the mattress beside him, my back propped up against the wall.

Turns out the 'tickets' Stuart had been talking about were gas tickets. It was how people were paying for petrol now, with the gas crisis basically at its peak. It was enough to get him a full tank and a few snacks for us to munch on as we drove.

It was just as we were leaving the station that he came back to visit us again. Eli was sleeping soundly beside me, my knees pulled to my chest and my head resting on my arms.

"Hey," Stuart knelt before me once again. "I guess, if we're gonna get going, is there somewhere you're trying to get to? You did say were on a train, and I know you kids tend to have safe zones and stuff."

I didn't hear anything he said after that, falling back into my own mind. Eli's paranoid voice was echoing in my thoughts, reminding me how dangerous it was to trust this man. Especially with the kind of information we had.

But we couldn't afford to lose any more time.

So my numb, rigid hand reached into my pocket and produced the Chatter, holding it out so he could see the location on the GPS. "We're trying to get here," I said. "As soon as possible."

He peered at it for a moment. "What's there?"

"Honestly? I'm not sure."

He watched me again, as if unconvinced. "Is it safe?"

"Is anywhere safe?"

He gave a humorless laugh.

"Please," I said. "If you want to help us at all, if you want to make up for squishing Eli, take us there."

His lips pulled to the side in thought. "I've been the that area before, you know. It's not a good place to be. The people that end up there . . ." He winced

"Someone there needs us - needs _me,"_ I almost choked on the words. "And - and I need something from them."

He took the Chatter from my hand with a sigh, examining the GPS. "You're sure about this?"

_"Absolutely_ sure."

Another light laugh as he handed the Chatter back to me. "Alrighty then," Stuart said. "Off to the Philly forest we go."

It was somewhere around dinner time that Eli woke up again. The ice had done wonders for getting the swelling down across his torso, but the bruises would take much longer to discolor. At least the splits in the skin had stayed scabbed over.

It wasn't easy, but he was able to push himself against the wall to sit up. _"Ugh,"_ He groaned, putting a hand over his lips.

"What?"

"My mouth," He winced. "It . . . _hurts."_

I opened the chest freezer, pulling out an expired popsicle. "You did bite a sizable hole through your tongue."

"I _what?"_

"Suck on this," I unwrapped the popsicle and held it out to him. "It'll help."

He took it with slow hands, easing the treat into his sore mouth a little at a time. "Tastes funny," He muttered.

"Well," I gestured to the space around us. "What did you expect?"

He shrugged, humming a little as the popsicle disappeared in his mouth once again. And we were quiet for a while.

"Are you okay?"

I looked up. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" Eli repeated. "You know, after . . . everything with Izita?"

I stretched out my legs in front of me, leaning my head back against the wall. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I'm tired," I replied. "It was a lot to take in."

"I get that," He whispered.

I believed him.

"They're proud of you, you know."

My eyes darted up again, seeing the small smile grow on his face. "What?"

"Your parents," He said. "Even if I hadn't told them about your insane adventures -"

I interrupted him with a laugh.

"- they would still be crazy proud of you."

The laugh turned humorless, tears in my eyes. "Even if they don't know me?"

Eli opened his mouth to reply, but then his face wilted, eyes going down along with his head. "Aja, I -"

"It's okay," I gripped the wall, pulling myself to my feet. "You don't have to be sorry."

"No, Aja, that's not -"

I opened the door to the driver's seat and let it close behind me, cutting off Eli's sentence. I don't know why I needed the space. I just couldn't handle another second under his pitying gaze. Another second of being reminded of what I'd done. Of the monster I was.

"You okay?" Stuart risked a glance back at me from the road. "Everything good with your Creepslayer friend?"

"Yes," I said. "He's fine."

"Are _you_ good?"

"Can I sit there?" I pointed to the passenger seat.

"Uh," Stuart glanced at the road again. It was a back woodland road, shrouded by a dark canopy of snowy trees. "Sure."

I lowered myself into the worn seat, leaning back and gazing out the window into the dark. What I would've given to look at the stars.

"So are you gonna tell me if you're okay or -"

"How do you know me?"

He started, glancing at me again. "Huh?"

"You said everybody knows me," I looked away from the window. "How?"

"Oh," He shifted. "Well, I follow all the undergrounds, you know? Keeping up with everything behind the scenes."

"The undergrounds?"

"The Trollhunters," He waved a hand. "Some of the Wizards. All the little rebellions here and there. But the Tarron family of Akiridion-5 Base?" He burst into a laugh. "You guys are legends! I mean, pure class."

I tilted my head. "Legends?"

"Yeah," He was nearly beaming. "The power couple of the Marines that have all Morando's unadulterated hate, nearly took down the League, then started their own resistance? Not to mention their kids. Aja, you're like the coolest, most butt-kicking-est teenager this side of the known planet. You're one of the only kids to break out of Thurmond - and what you did at Trollmarket when you defeated _Morgana_ -"

I leaned back a little. "I wouldn't call it _defeating -"_

"And then your brother, Krel?" Stuart threw up his hands. "Tech whiz extraordinaire! Developing game-changing tech with the League, just to defect and leave them in the dust? I wanna be him when I mentally grow up."

"Wait," My back bolted off the chair. "You know what happened at Trollmarket?"

"You kidding?" He chuckled. "Everybody does. That battle was like something right out of Lord of the Rings -"

I put my hand on the dash, leaning forward even more. "What happened? Do you know who survived it?"

His smile faltered. ". . . Well, I guess not. But I do know there was more than one Wizard brought into the mix - and the Trollhunters made sure most of the kiddos got away. But other than that . . ."

I deflated back into the seat.

"I'm sorry."

I sniffled, shaking my head to change the subject. "Why did you gain interest in my family? How did you first know us?"

His smile faltered again, his hips shifting uncomfortably in the seat while his finger drummed on the steering wheel. He was nervous.

"Uh . . ." Another shift. "Your parents, um, helped someone I knew. Someone I, uh, really cared about."

I almost didn't ask. "What do you mean?"

"It was . . ." He swallowed. "Someone I had left behind. But, your family made sure he was safe anyway. I -" He shot me a glance. "- I can't ever thank you guys enough for it."

"Who was it?" I whispered, my eyes on the dash.

Stuart hesitated. "His name was Buster."

"Your son?"

"Close enough."

I leaned back, my gaze going out the window again. "I've left people behind, too."

"Really?" He squinted at me. "You?"

Suddenly I didn't see the dark woods before me. I saw Thurmond. With its walls and guards and thousands of tormented faces trapped within. I saw Mary's 'selfie-smile', as she called it. The one she would give me after making a joke. I saw Shannon's wide eyes behind her glasses, how bright they would become when she told stories.

So many faces. So many children. So many lives. Left to rot under the crack of a baton and the bars of a dog kennel.

"Are your parents going to help them, too?" Stuart asked.

Then I saw Davaros's face, right in the middle of the broken mess our lives had become.

"No," I said. "I am."


	12. 12

**The Haunting Of Hill House But It's Not On A Hill**

**(A/N): BEFORE YOU READ THIS: there is a trigger warning for suicide in this chapter. i wouldn't say it's any more graphic than any other suicide triggers i've had in my past chapters, but i will put up the warning anyway, in case anyone's sensitive.**

"Are you sure you can walk?"

Eli nodded as he steadied himself on his feet. It was better for his balance if I held onto his elbow, letting him lean on me as we paced the length of the truck. But other than that, he seemed to faring well.

"You're sure you don't need more rest?" I pressed. "We can stay at least for the rest of the night -"

"Aja," He laughed under his breath. "My chest is what's busted, not my legs. I'm fine."

I lowered my eyes at him. We'd barely taken more than twenty steps and I could tell that was exhausting him. He could play tough-guy all he wanted, I knew he was just in a hurry to get away from Stuart.

"I don't want you over-exerting yourself. If I have to carry you . . ." I cringed at the thought. "That would be excruciating."

"I said I'm _fine,"_ He pulled his arm away from me, taking a few steps on his own to prove his point. "We need to get going."

I put my hands on my hips. "Now look who's being impatient."

He sent me a glare over his shoulder.

"What?" I threw up my hands. "If he wanted to hand us over to trolls, don't you think he would've done it already?"

Eli sighed, his shoulders hunching. "I don't know," He said. "But I don't want to find out."

Stuart opened the back door of the truck, cutting off my reply as a blast of frigid wind shot through the kitchen. "You two ready?" He asked.

Eli gave him a nod, letting me take his arm again and help him down onto the road. It was just past three in the morning, the stars twinkling bright above us as the cold wind grew gentle. Not warm, but at least not whipping.

"You sure you wanna go _now?"_ Stuart asked. "I mean, this is as far as I can take you, since this is where the road ends, but you can always wait until the sun comes up -"

"We'll be fine," Eli cut him off. "We need to get moving."

My eyes lingered on him for a moment, then went back to Stuart. "Thank you," I said. "For all your help."

He nodded, giving me a small smile. "Of course, Uncle Stu's always at your service."

With a giggle, I lugged my backpack over my shoulder and lifted my flashlight from its contents, shining it before me. The paved road ended when the last clearing did, the woods becoming too dense for a road. But there was still a trail, barely visible through the snow, just enough for us to follow.

Pulling out my Chatter, I examined the GPS for the millionth time tonight. We were so close. Just a few hours walk.

"Hope you get to wherever you're going," Stuart said behind me. "And . . . find whoever you're looking for."

I looked back. "You too."

"See you around?"

I smiled. "If we're lucky."

With a final laugh and a final wave, Stuart rounded back to the driver's seat and started his truck up again, the tires crunching over snow as he disappeared down the road.

I turned back to the woods, pointing my flashlight into the tree line. Eli came to stand beside me, his own flashlight in hand.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Ready."

And so we walked.

Eli made it about ten minutes before I had to take his elbow again, his balance beginning to fail him with fatigue. Not ten minutes more, I had both arms wrapped securely around him, practically dragging him through the snow.

His jaw was constantly clenched, his teeth grinding in the quiet. I could feel him sweating despite the cold. And his eyes were beginning to look as disoriented as his feet.

Finally, the trail emptied out onto a dirt road, running deeper into the woods. I ran my flashlight along it, my brows knitting together at sight. According to the GPS, there were no roads this deep in the forest. No one had officially cleared enough trees for one to be paved.

Not that any part of this looked official.

"Where do you think this leads?" I asked, a cloud of white appearing in front of my mouth.

". . . Dunno," Eli grunted.

I glanced at him, the moon illuminating how pale he was. I needed to get him out of the cold. I needed to get him somewhere he could rest. I stomped my foot into the snow as I thought. We should never have left that truck, damn it.

"Come on," I began easing him forward again. "Just a little longer, Eli. I promise."

He muttered something under his breath in reply.

The road wasn't as caked in snow as everything else, making it a little easier to walk along. But that also meant other people had been walking along it - or driving at least. The ghost of tire tracks left behind confirmed it. And I couldn't decide if it was fortunate or not.

On the one hand, it meant there was some kind of housing up ahead. A lodge or a cabin. A place where I could get Eli warm and rested.

But on the other, it also meant people. And people meant danger.

I shook off the thought, trying to focus on one problem at a time. We needed to find some shelter. Then I could figure out a way to mind-meld anyone already there away from us.

It was taking what little energy I had left to keep from saying 'I told you so'.

"Shut up," Eli muttered.

I glanced down at him. "I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"Thinking what?"

"Shut up."

That's when I saw it.

My feet skidded to a stop, Eli nearly toppling into me from the sudden halt. I raised my flashlight, practically stabbing it towards the . . . the . . . silhouettes?

Little mounds of . . . something.

Not dirt. Not rocks.

What _was_ that?

"What?" Eli lifted his head, squinting in the darkness. "What are those?"

"I don't know," I whispered, easing us forward again. None of the silhouettes moved as we approached, allowing me to eliminate the possibility of them being other kids. But something about it was horribly, heavily eery. Like a warning was flashing in front of me.

Of course, that only drew me closer.

The little circle of silhouettes was just off the road, in the smallest clearing of trees I'd ever seen. They were . . . piles. Five of them. Blankets, toys, bikes, books, dolls, even . . . baby powder? All of it dusted with snow.

The first two piles were loaded with hot pink and purple colors, from the polka dotted blankets to the frilly doll dresses. The last three were covered in navy blue and green, short bikes and remote control cars piled over one another.

"Are these," I stepped closer. "Shrines?"

Suddenly, I noticed the way the ground was turned up in the center of the circle. The slabs of rough stone placed at the head of every mound. And something inside me dropped.

"Graves," Eli whispered.

The air was suddenly that much colder.

My eyes darted back and forth between the piles, imagining the children they represented. Their names. Their families. The toys they played with and the books they loved to read. Their favorite blankets. Their old shoes.

Then my eyes lifted, and I saw the house.

It was off the road, a small game trail snaking towards it through the snow. But the footprints in it were not fresh.

The shape of it almost didn't look real, so dark and looming against the starry sky. So foreboding and isolated. It looked like a freeze frame from a horror movie.

Eli and I locked eyes. Around us, snow began to fall.

In the end, that snow made the decision for us.

With the wind picking up and the flakes coming in fat and fast, we both knew it would only get worse. We needed to get out of the storm, at least until morning. Otherwise, there was a good chance we'd freeze to death. Not even mentioning how Eli was ready to buckle from exhaustion any minute now.

"This isn't a good idea," Eli muttered as we tracked along the game trail. The footprints were nearly disappearing from the falling snow.

"You have a better one?"

He grumbled in reply.

The house was simple, but it wasn't small. It didn't look like a cabin or a lodge. It looked like a house. Dropped in the middle of nowhere, caked with snow and ice, and painted with long shadows.

It was far too clean to be abandoned, but it was so still, so utterly silent, that I doubted anyone was inside.

When we reached the gravel driveway, we found a car parked before the garage. All its doors had been left wide open, revealing that all the seats had been removed. The flat space inside was now white with snow, concealing a small mound in the center of the trunk.

"This place," Eli murmured against my shoulder, "is weird."

We climbed the wooden porch, me wincing at the creaking in the woods. They might as well have been sirens in the quiet.

A part of my mind was screaming to get away from this place, that something about it just wasn't right. But the pelting snow kept me moving forward. A creepy house wouldn't kill us. Being caught in a blizzard would.

I came to the dark-wood door, nearly supporting all of Eli's weight by his arms. I sent one last glance over my shoulder, seeing the barren yard and the whirlwinds of white.

_Now or never, Aja._

The sigh produced a cloud of white before me as I turned back to the door, rapping my knuckles hesitantly against it.

I positioned Eli under my arm, wincing at his little cries in pain as I held my free hand at the ready. The moment the door opened, I'd grab at their neck. Their face. Whatever I could get to. I'd pull them out onto the porch. I'd question who else was in the house.

Just like I did with the woman in Austerlitz.

A jolt a fear twisted in my gut. I hadn't been able to hold onto the Austerlitz woman very well in the first place. What guarantee did we have now?

After about two minutes of waiting, I decided it didn't matter.

I put one hand on the frigid door knob, giving it a testing turn. It wasn't even locked. When I pushed it open, I shown my flashlight down a large living room, leading into a hall that fed up a set of stairs. It was dark. Still. Silent.

But also . . . homey.

There were couches and rugs. Coffee tables and lamps shades. Everything was dusted and swept. The windows were clear. The curtains were spotless. There was even a house plant in the corner.

It was still green.

I took one step in, keeping my body angled in front of Eli's. I peered around the corners of the walls, aiming the beam of my flashlight along it. Eli bit back another whimper as he clambered behind me.

"Hello?"

My voice echoed off the empty walls. No response.

I took another step in, guiding Eli behind me. I could tell there was no heating in the house, the chill still seeping through my coat. But to be out of the wind and snowfall was worth it. Especially when I spotted the fireplace in the corner.

I tried one of the light switches on the wall beside us. Nothing.

The heavy door slammed behind us, making me jump as I whipped back around to it. Eli let out a small cry at the sudden movement, nearly falling against me as he did so.

"Come on," I breathed, working him towards the nearest couch. "Lay down."

I eased him down on his back, watching tears trail down his cheeks from the pain. They looked almost ghostly in the light of our coats, the dim, blue glow casting shadows in the hallows of his wet eyes.

I knelt on the floorboards, checking over my shoulder one last time for movement. There was none. So I turned back to Eli and began unzipping his coat.

"Don't . . ." He croaked.

"I need to see it," I whispered.

Pushing the fabric apart, I lifted his shirt just passed his ribs, seeing the violently purple bruises across his swollen flesh. One of the scabs had reopened.

I sighed, falling back on my knees as I watched his face crumple from the pain. My hands ran down my face. There had to be something I could do - something I could give him. But seeing the damage again, the sick and warped flesh under the dim glow of our coats, it made me wonder if something else was wrong.

I'd felt for broken ribs when he was unconscious, the way Bagdwella had taught me. But what if I'd done it wrong? What if the bone was fractured not broken? What if he was bleeding on the inside? What could I do then?

Eli was shivering.

Pulling his shirt back down, I zipped his coat back up and snuggled it around his neck, wiping at his tears with my sleeve.

"How's your mouth?"

He was breathing staccato again. "Hurts."

I pursed my lips. "I'll go see what I can find."

I searched the whole first floor within just a few minutes. There weren't many closets or cabinets. Plenty of dark corners, but no hiding places.

The kitchen was just like the living rooms. Neatly cleaned and organized. Dusted and swept. The pantry was halfway stocked, the fridge too. It made me wonder if someone would be coming back.

At least I found some frozen peas to work as an ice pack.

After situating that over Eli's sore torso, I ventured up the stairs to see a long hallway of rooms. The first was a bathroom with a sink that ran and a toilet that flushed. The second was a bedroom - a girl's bedroom. With a bunk bed and hot pink sheets.

The graves not twenty feet from the front door flashed through my mind. The hot pink blankets that had almost perfectly matched these. I closed the door, going to the next and easing it open. Another bunk bed, but this one was navy blue. The final room contained a single bed, wrapped in a plastic frame shaped like a race car. The sheets were green.

My stomach sunk.

The final bedroom was the master bedroom. Empty like the others - like me.

I shook my head as I stepped back out into the hallway, trying to shake off this sick feeling inside me. I didn't know these people. I didn't need to know them. And I likely never would.

People die. Life goes on.

Something caught my eye. I swung the beam of my flashlight around, finding another brass door knob as the end of the hall. A door knob that had scratches surrounding it.

I stepped closer, seeing the three bolts lining up the door. But none of them had been latched.

All it took was a push, and the door jam gave way as I pushed it, revealing a rough set of stairs covered with dents and scratches. But that was nothing compared the back of the door.

It hadn't been scratched. It had been _carved_.

Deep lines were gouged into the wood, ripping off the paint and splintering the material. Dents and nicks were complementing the gashes, like someone had pounded against it - the door itself even began to bend in the center under some invisible strain. It looked like a mauling from an animal.

It looked like desperation.

I raised my flashlight beam up the stairs, seeing what must've been some kind of attic.

Suddenly, it smelled very strongly of bleach.

"Hello?"

No answer.

I glanced over my shoulder one last time, making sure the door stayed open as I climbed the narrow staircase.

The walls of the attic curved like a circle, the ceiling low and bare. It almost looked like an overgrown closet. Large and dark, and for the most part, empty.

Until I realized it wasn't.

At the center of the floor sat a mess of chains, the ends bolted into the floorboards and the cuffs still crusted with blood. Deep red stains were splattered across the surrounding wood, but faded - as though someone had tried to scrub them away.

A glint of metal made me turn to the sides of the room, finding a line of tools. Knives ranging in size to as long as my arm and as short as my pinky. Steel cords. Rings of barbed wire. Saw blades and pickaxes. And a gurney, neatly aligned into the corner with leather straps hanging over the side, all of it spotted with aged blood.

Cold horror gripped my stomach, my feet backing up without me telling them to. Tears were blurring what little view I had of the room, my hands clammy around my flashlight. The beam was trembling from my grip.

"What. The. _Hell?"_

I kept trying to blink, shaking my head, darting my light from the chains to the weapons. This - this couldn't be _real -_

Someone else was in the room.

I shrieked, throwing myself back and until my spine slammed into the wall. My hand was on my serrator before I realized it, my elbow locking it out in front of me defensively. I very narrowly escaped pulling the trigger on impulse.

It was a woman. No, not just a woman. A man, too.

They were curled up in the corner, leaning against each other. Eyes closed. Hair gray. Faces aged. Looking as though they were asleep - until I saw the long gashes running the lengths of their forearms, red dripping into a puddle around them.

They had died smiling.

Suddenly I was running, tears burning, heart pounding, a sheen layer of sweat freezing to me from the cold air. I rounded into the bathroom in a blur, my flashlight and serrator clattering to the tiles as I dropped to my knees and vomited into the toilet.

Tears were pouring down my face, my throat choking out sobs in between heaves. I barely had the strength to hold myself up as I gripped the porcelain, my muscles trembling with the strain. But I couldn't stop, even if there was nothing left in my stomach any more, the lurching never ended. Like if I tried hard enough, I could retch the image out of me too.

What _was_ this place?

". . . Aja?"

I lifted my head, drawing in a shaky breath as I looked out into the dark hallway.

"Aja!"

"Eli?"

My knees trembled as I forced them up, my hands clammy as I wiped my mouth. The acidic taste was still lingering, burning on the back of my tongue as I tried to swallow it away. I scooped my flashlight off the ground anyway, ignoring the bitter flavor and galloped back down the stairs.

Eli was sitting up on the couch, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. He was pointing his flashlight into the kitchen.

"What?" I panted, my voice coming out as a whisper.

He didn't take his eyes off his beam. "I saw something."

I came to stand beside him, flashing my own light into the silent kitchen. "What did you see? A person?"

"No," He shook his head. "It was out that window - right over the table. Like a dog or something."

I glanced at him. "A dog?"

He glanced back, shrugging and shaking as he sank onto his elbows. "Something."

I sighed, running a hand over my sweaty forehead. My whole body felt heavy, my limbs and chest threatening to cave from the rush of adrenaline. But the thought of sinking into one of the couches made fresh bile rise in my mouth.

The realization crashed into me like a freight train: I wanted _nothing more_ than to get _the hell_ away from this place. Just standing in this living room sent shivers down my spine, like spiders were crawling beneath my shirt. Cold fingers on my neck. A stiffness along my back.

Suddenly, being caught in a blizzard didn't sound so bad.

"Are you okay?"

I lifted my eyes, seeing Eli tilt his head at me.

"You look . . . kinda sick."

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to be calm. "I'm fine."

He peered at me. "Did you find something up there?"

All the color drained from my face. Everything inside me froze. But before I could even think of a reply, bright lights erupted from the kitchen window, washing over us in a blinding flash.

Both of us ducked down out of instinct, Eli tucking himself against the couch despite the pain. When I stood tall again, I saw the sleek reflection of metal. Headlights. Tires.

A car.

"Shit," I hissed under my breath, darting back to Eli's side. "Come on, we need to go."

He shifted, putting both arms around my neck as I tugged him to his feet. "Where? Who's coming?"

"We're about to find out," I grunted, half dragging him down the hall into the downstairs bathroom.

He was panting from the pain, sweating and pale as I lowered him down into the space between the counter and the toilet. But his eyes were on the door, watching the dark living room.

"Maybe if we stay hidden," He wheezed. "They won't know we're here."

I shook my head. "We left tracks, Eli."

For the first time in my life, I hated snow.

"Stay here," I told him. "No matter what happens - not matter what you hear - do not come out for anything. Do you understand?"

He looked up at me for a moment, looking so helpless and scared. Exhausted and terrified. But then he nodded. And I realized I was running out of time.

I took his hand and gave it one last squeeze. "It'll be okay, Eli."

He could only nod a second time.

Pushing myself up, I shed my coat and dropped it at Eli's feet, leaving me in the henley hoodie I wore under it. Giving him one last look, I darted out of the room, closing the door on the glow.

He's safe in there, I told myself. Whatever horrors happened here, they wouldn't happen to us. I wouldn't let it.

The kitchen door clicked open. And I snapped out of my thoughts.

I side-stepped in the hallway, tucking myself against the stair banister as I listened to their footsteps, coming in careful but quick. I watched the beam of their flashlight trail the walls. I heard the clicking sound as they tried the light switch.

I wondered if they'd been here before.

Balancing on my toes, I peered around the corner catching the view of the intruder's back. I recognized the uniform the instant I saw the helmet.

PSF.

Tucking my hair back, I tugged up my hood and brought it down over my scar. The last thing I needed was an officer realizing what my last name was.

My hand instinctively felt for my serrator, only to remember I'd left it in the upstairs bathroom. Biting back a curse, I settled for rolling up my sleeves instead. I guess you don't need to carry around a weapon if you are one.

The man was easing closer, scanning the rooms as though he was looking for something.

Well he was about to find it.

Without warning, I swung forward and cracked the metal of my flashlight against the back of the man's neck - the one part of his head the helmet didn't cover.

He whipped around, giving me the opportunity to slam my foot into his stomach, sending him flying back. Before he could recover I swept my leg back again, clipping my heel against the jaw of his helmet as he crashed into the table.

I dove atop him, mounting his middle as my hands desperately searched for bare skin. But he was in full uniform. Gloves. High-collared coat. Boots. I clawed at his helmet buckle, but then the world was twisting to the side as he rolled over me.

His body weight kept me pinned until I slammed my knee in his side. He dropped a little, grunting out a cry as I punched the side of my fist against his covered neck. Somehow, his grip stayed firm on me anyway, rolling us back and forth as he desperately tried to pin my hands behind my back.

I arched my spine, squirming with all my strength. All I need was a brush of skin. One touch and he wouldn't stand a chance. Just one -

I threw my foot back and managed to nail him across his thigh, hearing him shout as his grip loosened. I moved to get away, but his hands latched onto my collar, strangling me back down. I gritted my teeth, wrestling his hands with my own, groping for the edge of them for skin.

Finally, I managed to kick off his chest and twist out of his grip. The force threw me back, crashing into one of the kitchen cupboards and my hood dropping to my shoulders.

_Shit._

The officer froze, his eyes so wide I could almost see them through the helmet. I froze too. For a solid few seconds, we just stared at each other. We both knew what that mark on my forehead meant. He probably thought it was his lucky day. Whatever officer handed me over to Kubritz would get the raise of a lifetime.

It wasn't until he started reaching for me that I snapped out of it.

Bracing myself against the cabinet behind me, I kicked into his chest with both feet, rocketing him back. He hit the kitchen door so hard it rattled.

Scrambling to my feet, I swiped my flashlight back off the floor and whipped back around, whacking it against his helmet before he could get up. I slid one foot back, taking full advantage of towering over him as I wound my arm back for another hit.

He held out his hands, shouting for me to stop - for me to wait. But I could barely hear it over the blood rushing in my ears. Not that I cared anyway.

They had never stopped when I asked. They had never waited. They had never shown me mercy.

Why should I?

"Stop it!" He kicked away from me, away from the corner I'd beaten him into. "Please! Angel, it's me!"

I froze, my arm halted in the air mid strike. All the blood drained from my face. The floor swayed beneath my feet, the world suddenly spinning around me.

"What . . ." I gasped. "What did you say?"

I couldn't have heard him right. I couldn't have heard that voice. That_ name -_

He pushed himself up from where I'd forced him against the wall, his hands moving to the clasp on his helmet. I jerked back at the movement, winding the flashlight back as a warning.

"What did you say?" I shouted it this time, tears searing in my eyes. _"What did you say!"_

The helmet eased off his head. The warm light of the barely rising sun shone through the window, illuminating his face. I recognized it before my eyes did.

The flashlight thudded to the floor.

_"Steve."_

**(A/N): and here we are, back to my habit of shit cliff hangers. thanks for reading loves!**


	13. 13

**Love Me Now**

**(A/N): ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) some good old john legend**

I'd barely uttered his name before my knees gave out and I dropped beside him, throwing my arms around his neck. My hands felt the ends of his golden hair, his beautiful brown eyes, the scent of fresh grass taking over everything.

Steve's hands were on my waist, sliding across my back, my arms, down to my hips, wherever he could reach. Just making sure I was real.

When he reached my hair, he pulled back, holding my face in his hands as his wet eyes searched me over. I stared back, drinking up the sight of him. The curve of his face. The richness of his eyes. My fingertips reached up almost instinctively, tracing along the edges of his cheek bones and feeling the wetness of his tears beneath them.

"Oh my God," Steve choked, his grip on me tightening. "Aja, you're - you're safe - you're _here -"_

I launched forward, crashing my lips into his without hesitation. His grip became iron around my waist, pulling me onto his lap and flush against his chest, one hand still buried in my hair. We kissed like we could make up for all the lost time. Like there was nothing in the world but the other.

We broke apart for air, but my lips were instantly against him again, kissing along every corner of his face. God, he was here. He was _alive._

He giggled under my kisses, and I wanted to sob all over again from how much I'd missed the sound. How much I'd missed everything about him.

"Wait - Aja -"

He pushed me back, just enough to look at me, for his eyes to search fiercely over my face. As if he'd missed something. As if I might disappear again if he didn't make for certain it was me.

"Oh my -"

And he pulled me back into him, kissing me the way a wave crashes onto the shore.

"What . . ." He gripped my face. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," I pushed my forehead against his, half giggling half sobbing. "And wearing a PSF uniform? I almost bashed your head in, Steve."

He didn't reply, only cradling me closer as we laughed and cried and kissed. Holding onto each other, in every way we could.

I was the first to rip back, a loud gasp tearing out of my throat.

Steve's grip was nearly crushing me at this point, but it was barely tight enough. "What's wrong?" He asked. "Angel, what's the matter?"

God, just _hearing_ that name again -

"Eli's here," I blurted. "He - he's here with me."

I might as well have punched Steve in the gut with that bombshell. If he wasn't pressed against the door, he would've fallen back from shock. ". . . E-Eli's here?"

"Yes!" I jumped to my feet, gripping his hand and tugging him down the hall with me. "Come on!"

His feet stumbled behind me, as though he could barely keep over them as I near dragged him to the downstairs bathroom.

"Eli!" I cried, throwing the door open. "Eli, look what I found!"

Eli had nearly jumped out of his skin when I burst into the room, cramming himself farther behind the counter - then releasing a grunt from the pain. "Aja, what the -"

His voice cut off the moment I pulled Steve in front of him. There was barely enough light from our coats to see. Barely enough room for all of us to stand there. But none of that seemed to matter as the two boys instantly recognized each other.

"Pepperjack?" Steve's voice cracked as he lowered himself onto one knee.

Eli hooked his fingers on the corner of the counter, pulling forward. "Steve?"

Tears spilled over both their eyes. Steve's hands trembled as they reached forward.

"Careful," I whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder. "He's more banged up than he looks."

Eli crawled onto his knees anyway, not even grimacing as he wrapped his arms around Steve's neck. Steve hugged back hesitantly, his hands hovering over Eli's back for a moment as if he didn't know what to do with them. They finally settled around his shoulders, cradling Eli as tightly as he dared.

"I missed you, buddy."

And a sob sounded from them both.

The hug lasted more than a few seconds before Steve reached up to pull me down with them, all of us becoming entangled in a long over do group hug. I pushed my nose into Steve's collar, wondering if there was a sweeter scent in the world than fresh grass.

"Wait," Steve pulled back, the wetness on his face catching the light. "Where's Krel? He's here too, right?"

Just like that, I was plummeting from cloud nine, crashing to the earth mercilessly. A sick feeling took over my stomach as I leaned back, fresh, bitter tears forming in my eyes. The shame was almost like a fire in my chest as I realized it. I would have to tell him. I would have to tell Steve everything I'd done. There was no way around it.

Eli and I locked eyes, the same look reflecting back. Right alongside the aching wish that Krel was here with us.

"No," I finally croaked. "He's not."

Steve's brows pinched together as he watched me, the devastation coming slowly as he realized what I was saying.

"But he -" He swallowed, misty eyes darting between Eli and I. "He made it, right? After what the goblins did to him? He didn't - he can't be -"

"He's alive," Eli said. "We're trying to find him. That's why we're here, we were walking and got caught up in the storm. We found this place by chance."

I let out a hoarse laugh. "What are the odds?"

Steve choked on his own laughter, placing one hand on either of our heads as he drew us close once again. Eli nuzzled into his shoulder, his voice muffled as he spoke. "I'm so happy you're okay."

"Me?" Steve pulled him back, hanging one hand on Eli's neck. "I just about lost my mind over you guys!"

His eyes went to me as his fingers tangled through my hair again, cradling one half of my face. "Where did you go? What _happened_ to you guys?"

I pinned my lips together to keep them from trembling, turning my face into his palm and pressing a kiss to the warmth there. I wasn't ready to talk, not even if I wanted to. My tongue was frozen to the roof of my mouth, aching and straining in its prison.

I wasn't ready. Not yet.

"It's a long story," Eli finally said. "But what about you? What happened at Trollmarket? What happened to everyone else?"

"That's a pretty long story too," Steve chuckled. "I can tell it to you guys once we get out of here."

And I finally found my voice again.

"Steve, what is this place?" I looked up at him, letting him see the raw horror in my eyes. "What happened here?"

"Why? Is someone else here?" He pulled me closer, looking back at Eli. "Is that what happened to you? Did someone hurt you?"

"No," He shook his head, brows knitting together. "It didn't happen here - Aja, did you find something upstairs?"

I looked at Steve again. "This house, it's owned by a couple, right? A couple with five children?"

He had me in a vice grip. "Did they hurt you?"

"They're dead."

He blinked, leaning back from shock. "Are - are you sure?"

I nodded numbly. "Upstairs. In the attic. They did it themselves."

". . . You saw the attic?"

"What _is_ this place, Steve?"

"What are you guys talking about?" Eli leaned forward. "What's in the attic? What's going on?"

Steve sighed, bowing his head forward. "It's - it's not easy to explain," He said. "But yeah, a couple owns this house - or did, I guess. Whoever they were, they lost their kids to Psi and started getting into goblins scripture-shit to try and . . . bring them back."

"Bring them back?" Eli shook his head. "That's not goblin. They don't care about bringing kids back, just getting rid of them."

"Then maybe it wasn't goblin," He ran his fingers through his hair. _"Crazy_ is what it was. Like rituals, sacrifices, satanic shit you see in movies. They lured all kinds of kids here, trading one life for another or whatever."

"How many?" I asked. "How many kids?"

He hesitated. "I don't know."

"Good _God,"_ Eli raked his fingers through his hair. "No wonder you looked like you'd seen a ghost."

"Why are you here?" I lifted my eyes to Steve's. "How do you know about this place?"

"And what's up with the PSF uniform?"

"The uniform is for blending in," Steve snickered. "Have you seen how many officers are in the next town over? What's left of it anyway. But the short version of how I got here is that we bumped into a Blue girl last night that somehow managed to escape this place. She told us everything, trying to warn us or something. We offered to let her stay, but she seemed pretty determined to get somewhere. After she left, I decided it'd be worth checking out." He gave me a lopsided smile. "Turns out I was right."

"'We'?" Eli leaned forward. "Does that mean you're still with Jim? And everyone else?"

"They made it out from what happened at Trollmarket?" I asked.

"Yeah," He said. "Some of us, at least. I mean, most kids went their separate ways and some did end up with Morgana, but we're working with this asshole, Merlin, to try and - are you guys okay?"

Eli and I locked our teary eyes, somehow holding back sobs and laughter at once. "We're just glad everyone's okay," I finally said.

Steve pulled us into his arms again, ruffling Eli's hair and kissing my temple. "C'mon," He said. "Let's get out of here."

We carried Eli to the car together, only going back to the house for my serrator and confirmation that the homeowners would never be hurting anyone ever again.

There were a thousand things raging under my skin as I climbed into the passenger seat of the car. More joy than I could swallow from seeing Steve again - from knowing my friends were okay. Unbearable numbness at what I'd seen in that house. And searing shame, that kind that burrowed deep, from knowing that I wouldn't be able to avoid telling my story for much longer.

Eli wasted no time jumping into his, rattling off to Steve how he'd found his parents, found mine, then found me. He conveniently left all mention of the League and Krel out his narrative.

I turned away to face the window, feeling utterly exhausted. Beaten and raw from too much walking and too much feeling. It was more dread than sleep that weighed down my eyelids, but they fell all the same. That is, until Eli shrieked, "Steve!", and the car jerked to the side, nearly smacking my head into the window.

When I looked back at the boys, Eli was leaning forward as far as he could with a glare. "You can ogle at your girlfriend later, Steve," He said. "Keep your eyes on the road."

Steve was the color of a tomato as he straightened the vehicle, his ears burning. But when he caught my sideways glance, he showcased a dorky grin I'd missed more than I realized.

I couldn't help it.

Scooting across the seat, I leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. The car veered off the dirt road almost instantly.

"Aja," Eli announced. "For the safety of everyone here, I'm gonna have to ask you to trade places."

A snowy sun was peeking up around us as we came to a sort of campsite. I could see a pavillion, a colorful tent against the white snow, and the smoke of a fire. But I couldn't make out any people.

"Eli," Steve said. "Why don't you go give everyone a wake up call? Tell 'em I brought back a bit more than just supplies."

"Supplies?" I leaned forward from where I was now sitting behind the driver's seat. "Is that why you left in the first place?"

"Yeah," He said. "We've been going around this area for a while since it's about as good of cover we're gonna get. And there's this town, Harrisburg or something, it's just a couple miles from here. It got flooded by the river, completely trashed. But there's a warehouse just outside of it full of stuff they were handing out. Food, blankets, medicine, you name it. They closed it off for some reason and we've been picking off of it since we got here."

"That is," Eli said, "insanely lucky."

"I know, right?" He nodded towards the tents. "Go tell 'em I'm back, and I picked up a few stragglers on the way."

I could see the suspicion on Eli's face as he peered at us. He knew Steve just wanted a moment alone with me. I knew it, too. And even though I wasn't sure if _I_ wanted to have a moment alone with Steve, I didn't find myself opposing the idea.

Eventually, Eli's eagerness to see his friends won out and he stepped out the passenger side, leaving Steve and I on our own.

He turned, peering around his chair to see me. I scooted back, leaning into the corner and pretending I didn't see his gaze. Suddenly, the side door was very interesting.

"Aja." I felt him take my hand. "Please look at me."

The moment I did, I wished I could disappear. I wished I'd never run from Trollmarket. That I'd never trusted Seamus, never let him hurt Krel, and never pushed that damn button in the first place. I wished I had stayed. With every fiber of my being.

Without releasing my hand, Steve moved forward, climbing into the back beside me. And I let him. I let him pull me into his arms and onto his lap. I let him run his hands through my hair as he tilted my face to look at his. And I let the tears fill my eyes when I saw them in his.

"I thought you were gone," He whispered, pressing his forehead into mine. "I thought - when I couldn't find you I -"

His voice broke. A tear fell from his eye, and I kissed it away.

"Did you run away?" He swallowed. "From - from me?"

"No," I answered faster than I expected, running my fingertips down his face. "Yes, I ran, but not from you." I gripped a fistful of his hair and tugged him closer. "Never from you."

His eyes were agonized when they raised to mine again. "Then why?"

"For Krel," A tear dripped down my face. "He was dying, Steve. I knew there was nothing we could do. I had to get him to someone who could help."

He wiped my cheek with his thumb. "Who? Where did you go, angel?"

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I didn't know how to explain where I'd been. What I'd done. So I bowed my head and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping he would understand.

And he did.

Steve knew better than anyone how deep secrets could go. How much it hurt to bring them out before they were ready. So instead of more questions, he closed the distance between us and worked his lips against mine until all the tension under my skin vanished.

"I know we can't make any promises," He breathed against my lips. "I know there's no guarantees for us, but you better believe I will do whatever it takes to never have to let you go again. And whatever happens in the future, whatever happens for us," He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, "just - just love me now. I don't wanna think about what happens if our time runs out again. I just wanna love you now."

I traced my fingers over his face again, watching his rich, brown eyes as warmth exploded in my chest. The feeling was almost too much to breathe. Too deep and too raw to process. So instead of trying, I pressed my lips to his once again, a silent promise to treasure whatever time we had.

Suddenly, my back was pressed against the seats, Steve's body heat hovering over mine. Our fingers and legs were intertwined, shifting and melting into each other. And that's all that mattered. The warmth of his chest, the roughness of his lips, the softness of the seats beneath us -

"Wow, really?"

We broke apart, snapping towards the passenger door to see Eli leaning into it. We hadn't even heard him open the door.

"I was gone for five minutes, guys."

"Wait a minute!" A voice chimed in from behind him. "There's only one person Steve would aggressively make out with in the back of a car." Toby popped up beside Eli. "Aja?"

I bolted up smiling, too elated to be embarrassed. "Toby!"

Clambering over the seats, I practically tackled him in a hug, leading the both of us to trip out of the car.

"Aja!"

Claire dove head first into our dog pile, the flash of her beaming smile sent me shrieking with delight. Their coats were almost as cold as the frozen ground, but I barely felt it with how warm my chest was. I didn't realize how much any of them meant to me until then.

"I can't believe you're here!" Claire gripped my shoulders, shaking me back and forth before crushing me in another hug. "I can't believe you're okay!"

Heavy, clunky footsteps pulled us apart, strong hands offering down to help all three of us up. I somehow managed to smile wider. "Jim."

He wasn't wearing his armor. None of them were. Just heavy coats and boots caked with varying degrees of slush and dirt. But his smile was as familiar as ever as he pulled me to my feet.

"Good to see you," He winked as he pulled back from the hug. "Akiridion."

The name made something in my spine straighten. Something in my feet ground. It made power swell in my core. "Good to see you too, Trollhunters."

"Where have you guys been?" Claire stepped before me again. "I mean, you like, vanished out of thin air after Trollmarket collapsed. We - we thought you'd gotten . . ." She trailed off into a nervous laugh, tears showing in her eyes. "It doesn't matter what we thought. You're okay now."

Jim craned his neck to look over my shoulder. At first I thought he was looking for Steve, but even after he'd stepped out of the car, Jim continued to look. "Where's Krel?" He finally asked. "Isn't he with you?"

I was more prepared for that question this time. "No, but he's close." I pulled the Chatter out of my coat pocket. "We need to get here to find him - and soon."

Toby tilted his head as he stared at the GPS. "Huh, that's just across the river."

I lowered the Chatter. "You know the way?"

"Wait," Steve stepped just behind my shoulder. "That - that's a _League_ Chatter."

My stomach sunk. "Yes, it is."

Jim's brows pinched together. "That's where you've been? With the League?"

"Oh, that's right," Steve said. "They were looking for you when you guys broke into our van. The League broke you out of Thurmond, and wasn't Krel with them for a while -?"

"Yes," I cut him off. "The League had been looking for my brother and I since we defected." That was all I could say at that moment.

Steve glanced at Eli. "You too?"

He shrugged with a half hearted smile. "They picked me up as soon as trolls got it out that a Creepslayer was up for grabs. That's how me and Princess met up again."

I elbowed him.

"Nice coats by the way." Toby stood back, holding up his hands as though he were looking through a picture lens. "You guys kinda look like Christmas trees. Very festive."

"Wait a minute," Claire spread her hands. "Aja, if you were picked up by the League, why didn't we see them take you? You would've been, what? Twenty feet away?"

I deflated a bit more. Here goes.

"Because . . ." Breathe in, breathe out, "they didn't take me. I went willingly."

Eli raised an eyebrow out of the corner of my eye, making me wonder if Zadra had told him about how I'd bitten her when she tried to restrain me. She'd gotten three stitches for it.

"What do you mean?" Toby asked. "Why - _how_ did you even do that?"

Breathe in, breathe out. "I had a panic button."

"A what button?"

"A tracker," I said. "But it only set off a signal if I pushed the button. My caretaker, Zadra, gave it to me after she took me out of Thurmond as a fail safe. Call it paranoia, but I continued to carry it with me even after we defected. Just in case, I guess."

Jim's eyes were bugged. "You had a tracker on you the _whole time?"_

I cringed as I nodded.

"And you activated it when Krel got sick," Steve said, making me turn to look at him. "Didn't you?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Calling the League was my only option. That's why I ran, so they wouldn't take anyone else. I - I didn't want to leave, but I had no choice. He was dying - I had to do _something -"_

Jim laid a hand on my shoulder. "We understand, Aja."

I found myself wiping away tears anyway.

"Is he okay now?" Claire asked.

"He survived, yes. But now?" I looked down at the Chatter. "I have no idea."

"That's why we're trying to find him," Eli stepped forward. "To make sure he's safe."

"Why did he leave in the first place?" Toby cocked his head. "You guys were like, super glued together. What happened?"

I bit back a fresh bat of tears. "It's complicated."

"Well," Jim lifted a hand to me. "Where do we start?"

I blinked. "What?"

"You need to find Krel," He gestured back to the group. "We can help. We've been camping along this river for almost a week now."

"What _are_ you guys doing here?" Eli asked. "What happened after Trollmarket 2.0 went down?"

"When Morgana showed up with her army, we were forced to call Merlin," Jim replied. "He helped us get most of the kids to safety, but some of us scattered and got lost."

"At least we won," Claire mumbled.

I tilted my head. "Merlin?"

"Asshole," Steve replied.

"Captain Crazy-Armor."

"Pervert."

Jim let out an exasperated sigh. "He's a Wizard, the one that made me the Trollhunter in the first place, remember?"

"Yeah," Eli folded his arms. "What's he got you at his beck and call for this time?"

Jim sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Morgana's planning something - something big. Merlin has a strategy to take her down, and it might work - but he needs the supplies for it first."

"And tracking that stuff down landed you here?"

He cracked a smile. "You should've seen the ones I gave Blinky to find."

"Where is Blinky?" I asked.

"Right now?" Jim shrugged. "Not sure. But when we've both got everything on Merlin's lists, there's a place we're planning on meeting up again."

"Like another Trollmarket?"

"Not quite that yet," He replied.

"But we've nearly gathered everything," Claire said. "If you need help finding Krel, we've got your back."

I smiled. "Thank you."

"So let's go," Toby jabbed a finger at the horizon. "We're burnin' daylight."

I blinked. "But . . . you're campsite -"

"We'll pack it up," Claire looped her arm through mine as she guided me towards the tent. "We've got a car for a reason. And I was getting tired of this spot anyway."

"So let's get this thing loaded and we'll go along the river." Jim looked back at me. "How old is that location? How far should we spread out to find him?"

"A week maybe?" Eli came up behind me. "He knows someone's coming to find him. He'd be smart enough to try and stay put."

"Then let's hope he did."

Packing up the camp was a good distraction from the coming conversation. Instead, I filled my head with an inventory of everything they'd gathered. Sleeping bags and tarps. Pillows and blankets. Preserved foods. Water bottles. Extra clothes. And several large duffle bags with odd shapes protruding from within.

Once everything was loaded into the car, I knew that was my last chance.

"Wait," I said, watching everyone turn to look at me. Except Eli. He was looking right at the ground.

"Yeah?" Toby leaned over to the car. "Something wrong?"

I managed to swallow. Breathe in, breathe out. "Before we leave, there's - there's something you all should know."

"What?" Jim asked. So innocently.

I locked eyes with Eli, seeing the look of empathy he was giving me. Trying to make this easier. Trying to soften the blow. Then he gave me a small nod and I knew I had to finish.

"Um," I began tugging on the ends of my hair. "If we find Krel - _when_ we find Krel . . ." Breathe in, breathe out, "he's not going to know who I am."

There were a few beats of silence. Everyone before me just looked confused. Knitted brows and tilted heads were staring me in the face and I didn't realize how terrifying it could be.

"So," Toby said. "He's got amnesia?"

"No," I knotted the strands around my fingers. "He'll remember all of you, and Trollmarket. Just . . . not me."

That's when the confusion turned to wariness.

"Why?" Steve asked.

I tried to use Mama's voice when I spoke, but it came out broken anyway. "I made him forget."

There was a sheen layer of tears over my eyes now. My hands were clenched so hard I was trembling. But I couldn't let myself relax. I couldn't let myself fall apart. I had to say this, to prevent the absolute disaster that would come if I didn't.

Jim's eyes burned into mine. "Why would you do that?"

My tongue was frozen again, my mind blank. Even if I wanted to speak, I had no words. There was no way to explain why I'd had no choice. There was no way to make them understand -

In the end, it was Eli who saved me.

"Because she had to."


	14. 14

**What Did Humans Ever Do To Deserve Dogs?**

"Did she really do it?" I heard Toby ask. "Did she really . . . wipe Krel's memory?"

I didn't hear Eli's response, but judging by the thick silence that followed, he had nodded.

The car was dark as I laid across the back row of seats, pretending to be asleep so I could eavesdrop. We'd been up and down the river for most of the previous day, checking the location on my Chatter and everywhere near it. Any possible path Krel could've taken. Any other way he could've followed the river.

So far, nothing had come of it.

When night began to fall, we pulled over under a canopy of snowy trees to get some sleep. And as exhausted as I was, I couldn't get a moment's rest. The dreaded, scorched feeling in my chest made it near impossible.

"How do you know?" That was Claire's voice, whispering to ensure she didn't wake me.

"She told me," Eli replied. "But . . . I kinda figured it out on my own too."

I had to fight not to cringe to myself. Of course Eli would've figured out what I'd done before I told him. Not only was he a Green, he was clever. And I'd already given him half the puzzle his first day with the League.

"Why'd she do it?" Claire asked. "Those two were closer than me and my brother ever were. Wouldn't she _want_ him to stay?"

"Of course she _wanted_ him to stay, but -" He let out a heavy sigh, his glasses clicking against themselves as he dragged a hand down his face. "It's not that simple."

"What do you mean?" Steve said, his tone almost accusatory. "Krel told me about everything they did to get back to each other. Why would they throw all of that away?"

"Because . . ." Eli trailed off. "You know how shady the League is."

"You guys survived it."

"We also survived Thurmond and Leda Corp, Steve."

Toby's voice came next. "You're honestly comparing the League to Thurmond and Leda Corp?"

"What are you not telling us, Eli?" Jim's voice made me tense a little. The severity in his tone made my insides all the more raw.

"There is plenty I'm not telling you, 'cause it's not my story to tell, but guys -" Another sigh, the brushing of skin as he rubbed his eyes. "The whole Tarron family, they've had targets on their backs since the beginning. People everywhere hate them, and even better, Morando hates them. I mean, have you seen the bounties he put on their heads?"

"Yeah, but what does this have to do with them splitting up?"

Eli didn't answer for a moment. "The League . . . wasn't safe."

"Well yeah, it's not exactly a daycare center but they would've been fine as long as they stuck together -"

"No," Eli cut Steve off. "It was different for them. There were . . . people there."

". . . And?" Claire asked.

"It just wasn't safe, okay?"

"Krel was there for over four years."

"And you really think he walked away from that okay?"

The car became very quiet.

"Look," Eli said. "Aja, didn't give me a lot of details, but people hurt Krel while he was there. And they - they hurt her, too."

"Wait, what?" Steve blurted. "What do you mean they hurt her?"

"Why were they targeted?" Jim asked. "Out of all the kids there, why single them out?"

"Well, first off, Aja's an Orange," Eli replied. "That makes her the top of their priority list on its own. And secondly, they're Tarrons. They're _always_ singled out. Even the goddamn president does it."

"He's got a point," Toby muttered.

"But," Jim continued, "the League isn't affiliated with Morando."

There were several beats of silence.

_"Is_ it?"

"'Affiliated' is a strong word -"

"Morando has a hand in the League?" Toby's yelp was immediately followed by several shushing sounds, and I could feel their eyes on my back, making sure I stayed 'asleep'. As if that was even in the realm of possibility right now.

"Yes," Eli's voice dropped to a whisper again. "Morando has a hand in the League. It took him awhile, but eventually he figured out Krel was there and convinced several of the agents to turn for him."

"But he had people to protect him, right?" Steve asked. "Like that grandpa guy?"

"His name is Varvatos and yeah, he and their other - aunt, I guess? They caught wind of what was happening and were able to keep Krel safe for the little while he needed it. Then he met up with Aja and they both defected. So when they were forced back into the League, things got complicated again."

"But still," Claire said. "Those guys, their grandpa and aunt or whatever, they were able to protect her for this long. Would protecting them together have been so bad?"

Eli stayed quiet for almost a solid minute. "They couldn't always protect her."

More silence.

"What do you mean?"

A final sigh, as Eli shifted in his seat. "Again, it's not my story to tell. But the point is, there's a reason Aja wanted Krel out of the Leauge. There's a reason she risked so much. There were people in the League being paid to hurt them - to try and traffic them back to Morando."

"And the easiest solution was . . ." Toby muttered, "this?"

"Look you guys," Eli said. "I know how deep we are into the gray area - but everything Aja did, she did for her family."

The quiet that followed wasn't heavy, but it didn't ease anything inside me.

"So, what happens when we find Krel?" Jim asked. "How long do we have to play along that Aja doesn't know him?"

"Yeah," Steve added. "She can't keep him in the dark forever, can she?"

"I don't know what happens when we find Krel," Eli replied. "I just really hope we do."

The next morning we were all standing outside the car, Steve and Jim bent over the maps whilst I compared them to my GPS.

"Where do you think he would go?" Jim asked me.

"I don't know," I sighed. "He'd at least stay near the river, for water and direction. But . . ."

"We've already looked at all those places," Toby said.

I leaned against the car door. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Jim said. "We'll find him. It just might be harder than we thought."

"Didn't Merlin give you a deadline?" Eli asked. "Should we be in a hurry?"

Jim shrugged. "Not really."

"Besides," Claire said. "The things we're after take time to get. He's not expecting us to be home anytime soon."

"What _are_ the things you're after?" I asked. "What's Morgana planning?"

"A coup," Toby replied, jumping up to sit on the hood of the car. "Taking Morando's throne room and control of the PSFs. After she's got those guys, there's not going to be much stopping her."

"She wants to infect the remaining population with PSI," Jim added. "Even adults. And eventually, the rest of the world. Whoever survives will live under her rule, 'in their rightful place'." He used his fingers to mimic air quotes.

"World domination," Eli commented. "Nice."

"What's Merlin's plan to stop her?"

"A kind of safeguard," Jim said. "Plans and intel we can use stop her coup before it happens."

Eli hopped up on the hood beside Toby. "How have you been gathering the intel?"

"Like this," Claire pulled a cell phone from her pocket, sliding her finger across the screen to bring up a list of coordinates. "The intel we're looking for was scattered in different archives across the east coast. Sir Pervert knows because he hid most of them. Our job is to find the right computer then use his passwords to get the info."

"We only have to find like, one more."

"Yeah," Steve leaned over Claire's shoulder, squinting as he read the list. "Something code named, Lightning In A Bottle."

Something in me twisted. Eli and I locked eyes.

"What?" Claire looked up, pinching her brows together. "Have you heard of it?"

"The League was after Project Lightning In A Bottle," Eli leaned forward. "It was one of their highest profile Ops."

"Why is Merlin after it?"

Claire hesitated.

"We're not entirely sure," Jim said, making me turn to face him. "Getting Merlin's help was . . . a last resort."

I tilted my head. "He never gave you a reason?"

"He did," Claire continued. "But knowing his pathological liar side, we're not exactly banking on it being the truth."

"So," Eli stepped off the hood. "He sent you on a wild goose chase."

"Not quite," Jim replied. "We know we need this intel, to defeat Morgana or otherwise. We're not sure what Merlin's plans with it are, but we can deal with him when we get back. For now, it's in everybody's best interest we finish compiling the list."

"It's also in everybody's best interest to split up," Toby slipped down from the hood. "That way we'll cover more ground."

Eli shot him a look. "Splitting up is never in anybody's best interest."

"It would save time," Claire shrugged.

"But is it worth it?" Jim said. "If we split up, we might run into more houses like the one Steve found Aja and Eli at."

"Time is of the essence," I replied. "And we're running out of it. If we can shave off a few hours, I say it's worth it."

"Besides," Steve laid a hand on my shoulder. "We're the Creepslayerz, the Trollhunters, and the Akiridion. We run into any goblin-wanna-bes, we can take 'em."

Jim looked at me for a moment, finally giving me a gentle nod. "Then splitting up it is."

Two hours later, Steve, Eli, and I were walking along the south end of the river bank with that promise that we would be back at the car at sundown. Eli was keeping an eye on our pathway, making sure to memorize it so we'd be able to find our way back. Jim, Claire, and Toby on the other hand, were going off of their knowledge of the river. They'd been up and down it enough times to know their way around.

My breath was fogging in front of me, my toes completely numb as we hiked along the icy bank. The river hadn't frozen over completely, leaving marshlands of mud and ice now decorating our boots.

My feet were so cold they burned.

"Do we even know what we're looking for?" Steve asked me. "Would he have a little camp thing set up, or would he leave his shoes out somewhere or . . .?"

"Of all the things for him to take off," Eli replied. "His shoes would be the last option. I mean, look at this place. It's like walking through a giant slushy."

"Still," He shrugged. "If Krel knew someone was coming for him, he would've tried to leave some kind of trace, wouldn't he?"

"There is a signal we had," I said, stepping in line with them. "When we were younger. We'd hang up our coats nearby wherever we were hiding to find each other again."

"I'm not sure he'd risk losing his coat either," Eli said. "Not in this weather."

I stopped walking.

The boys turned back to me. "What?"

"You don't -" I swallowed. "You don't think that he found that house, too . . . do you?"

Steve and Eli looked at each other.

"What did they do with the bodies?" I had to fight to keep my voice from shaking. "After the children were dead, what'd they do with the remains?"

He hesitated. "I - we don't really know, but, I mean, the girl we ran into - uh - she talked about . . . using lye."

He might as well have punched me.

"You mean like _acid?"_ Eli's brows were in his hairline. "Those nutjobs dissolved _bodies?"_

I was fighting back tears now. "So there's no way to know for sure."

Steve's eyes went soft. "Aja -"

I pivoted on my heel, turning away from them and pinning my hand over my mouth. My insides were suddenly just as frozen as my feet, so cold they seared.

To have come all this way. To have so much hope. Just to find I'd failed my little brother yet again.

I didn't know if I could take it.

"Hey," Steve's hands rested on my shoulders, his figure coming to stand in front of me. "Like you said, there's no way to know for sure. Krel's smart, he wouldn't have just gone into some random house -"

"He also would've been desperate, Steve," I shot back.

"Not to mention that finding an old hunting road would look pretty promising next to,"  
Eli spread his arms. "Slushy-land."

"Still," Steve's hands moved to cradle my elbows. "He's a Yellow, isn't he? He could've fought them off. He could've escaped - like that girl."

"What happened to that girl anyway?" Eli asked. "You said she didn't stick around, why?"

"Not really sure," Steve replied, looking just as confused. "She ran into me and Claire by accident, but after giving us her warning, she seemed pretty antsy to get somewhere. Like, she was looking for someone, or something. When we offered to let her stay, she didn't even hesitate before turning us down. Then she said something about 'meeting the Trollhunter' and ran off."

"So," Eli adjusted his glasses. "She met Jim?"

"No, actually," Steve said. "She didn't. That's the weird thing. Jim never saw her. I don't even know how she knew he was in the area."

Eli mushed his brows together. "That's weird."

"But the point is," He tightened his grip on my arms. "There's a chance Krel is still out here, and if he is, we'll find him. I promise."

I didn't answer. I didn't even look at him. Staring numbly at the ground instead. I was too tired to -

Somewhere in the woods beside us, a branch snapped.

All three heads whipped in that direction, staring into the tree line. Another branch snap. A rustle.

Eli went stiff next to me. "Please tell me you guys heard that, too."

"Loud and clear," I replied. And I stepped towards it.

I expected the land to get at least slightly less marshy as we wound away from the river, but to no avail. The flood Steve was talking about must've turned this place into a swamp. Needless to say, it was not easy to keep my squelching steps quiet as I followed the rustling.

My serrator felt like ice when I grabbed it, Eli's hands almost as cold when he grabbed my wrist.

"It's probably just a raccoon," He said. "We shouldn't waste bullets."

Another rustle, followed by the crunching of snow. When my head snapped back up, I noticed a flash of movement behind a tree. Something too tall to be a raccoon. Too large. I drew my serrator, swinging around the edge of a large oak and -

All I saw was a blur of white and brown fur before it was launched right into my chest.

My back hit the tree, sending me tumbling against its roots. A warm, wet tongue was against my cheek before I could even get my vision straight again, a short snout dominating my view.

But it was the bark that gave it away.

I pried myself up on my elbows, catching the dog by his legs as he bounced over my shoulders, lapping his tongue around my chin. I giggled against the sensation, listening to happy yips as a response.

"It's . . ." I heard Eli say. "A corgi."

"Um, Pepperjack," Steve said. "I'm pretty sure that's a dog."

"Nice to see you too," I laughed, scratching behind the floppy, furry ears. A flash of metal caught my eye as I did, my fingers catching the golden tag dangling from the collar. "Luug," I read aloud.

He barked excitedly, ducking down to wag his tail before jumping back up to lick away my frozen tears. I burst into a fresh round of giggles.

"Hey, look at that," Eli said. "The dog's a better kisser than you."

I laughed harder.

By the time I had pushed myself up against the tree, the boys were squatting next to me, letting the dog bark and yip between them. But never leaving my lap.

"How did a dog even get out this far?" Eli muttered.

"He sure seems to be enjoying himself," Steve grumbled in reply, watching the dog nuzzle his snout into my neck.

I petted my hands over the soft fur, shooting Steve a wink. "Looks like you've got yourself some competition."

As if on cue, the dog jumped up onto my shoulders, sniffing over my face and into my hair. More laughter began bubbling up my throat, until the wet snout brushed my forehead, and the corgi seemed to pause.

All the excitement deflated out of his big, brown eyes, his ears drooping down as well. I almost thought I heard him whine before he leaned up to lap over my scar. As if he could lick it away as easily as my tears.

I leaned back, scratching behind his ears as I watched his sad, brown eyes. Then he lowered his head and buried it in the crook of my arm, snuggling against me.

"Am I crazy," Eli started, "or did the dog just recognize your scar?"

I ran my hand over the corgi's head, holding him so his head was just under my jaw. I held the tag in my hand again. "I wonder where he came from." I said.

"Well, he certainly seems to find you familiar," Eli replied.

Steve hummed sourly in agreement.

"Wonder why," I muttered.

As if to answer, the dog jumped back up in my lap, barking as he leapt over my shoulder and around the trunk of the tree. Dancing on his four legs, he began bouncing in a circle, surrounding us. Snapping his jaws, barking, and yipping. Then finally jumping back to me and pawing at my legs.

I eased myself onto unsteady feet, watching the dog leap back and forth between the clearing through the trees before us and me.

"I think he wants us to follow him," I said.

"Why?" Steve asked, almost accusingly.

Eli shrugged. "Maybe he's lonely."

Without warning, the dog had his teeth around the laces of my boot, yanking my entire leg forward. The pull would've sent me to the ground if Steve hadn't grabbed my arm.

"Nuh-uh!" Steve snapped at the corgi. "She's _my_ girlfriend, you can't have her!"

The dog gave another pull, growling as he waggled my foot back and forth possessively. I had to hop forward on one leg to keep my balance between the two of them, my face heating up as I laughed.

"Okay, okay!" I giggled, tugging my foot back. "We're coming, we're coming."

"What?" Eli and Steve spoke the word in unison, giving me identical looks of confusion and disapproval. It only made me laugh harder.

With a bark of celebration, the corgi released my boot and tore through the underbrush, leaving me jogging to catch up. I glanced over my shoulder to see the boys, but they weren't moving.

"Come on," I snickered. "We're gonna lose him!"

"Really?" Eli threw out his hands. "We're doing this? We're following a dog?"

"You got a better idea, Cryptid?"

Eli opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Hm."

With a final grin, I pivoted on my heel and ran after the corgi once again. I didn't need to look back this time. They would follow me, if only for the reason that they wouldn't leave me on my own.

We wove through the trees after the little canine, the river fading farther and farther from view until I couldn't even hear it rushing anymore. And yet, the swamp land never seemed to end.

We finally reached a kind of clearing in the trees, an open pocket of the woods, when the little dog vanished into the bushes ahead of us. I tried to tread after him, but I'd barely taken two steps towards the shrubbery when the wind was knocked out of me.

It was like a giant hammer had slammed against my chest, throwing me back until I skidded across the slick snow.

Steve and Eli both cried out, but before either of them could touch me, Steve went flying to the left, spinning through the air like a rag doll until his side connected with a tree trunk.

"Steve!"

I scrambled to my feet, only to have them swept out from under me again as I was thrown into my own tree trunk. The impact made me see stars, my lungs constricted so tight I almost couldn't open them for air. The last thing I heard was Eli yelping in pain before the footsteps reached my ears.

_Blues._

My hand shot up, ripping the hood of my shirt over my head to cover my mark. By the time I raised my eyes again, there was a boy standing over me. He couldn't have been two years older than I was.

Mud clung to every inch of his legs. His face and hair was caked with grease. His skin shone a sickly pale, his knuckles torn open and scabbed. But it was the M4 carbine on his arm that had my attention.

The barrel of the gun tilted under my chin, forcing me to meet his snarling face. "Hey there," He grinned, a thick southern drawl accompanying his cigarette breath. "What's a pretty thing like you doin' in a place like this?"

My eyes darted to see behind him, catching three other gunmen standing in the clearing. All filthy. All snickering. All far too young to be holding guns that size.

"Don't you worry," A boy looming over Eli said. "We bring glad tidings, so try not to wet yourself, four-eyes."

"Hey!" Steve yanked himself to his feet, only for the nearest boy to ram the butt of his gun into Steve's middle, forcing him to double over.

"Stop!" I threw up my hands, leaning back as far as I could as the barrel pressed into my throat. "You can have our packs, alright? We don't want any trouble."

"Oh, we'll be taking your packs," The boy in front of me laughed. "But we'll be taking the rest o' you, too. And trust me," He winked. "You won't disappointed."

I didn't even want to know what he was talking about.

"Alright guys," He grabbed my arm, twisting it painfully as he wrenched me to my feet. "Let's get the fresh meat back to the Trollhunter."

**(A/N): ya'll didn't think i was gonna forget about Luug, did you?**


	15. 15

**The King Of The Stupids**

You know what the real tragedy was?

These boys, as filthy as they were, had covered up to their necks. My only shot at bare skin was to go for the face. But seeing the barrel of the M4 carbine never left my side, I didn't have any odds in my favor.

Not to mention there was no sign of the corgi as we were marched through the trees. Like it had just disappeared. Lead us here, and vanished. The little shit.

Without the dog to worry about, I was left with plenty of time to wonder what the hell these bottom-feeders meant when they said: 'Trollhunter'.

We, unlike them, knew the Trollhunter. We knew exactly where he was, and it certainly wasn't anywhere we were being dragged.

I started thinking back to the Blue girl Steve had mentioned, something about 'meeting the Trollhunter'. But that's the thing. The name itself was just a title, the same as any other my friends and I had earned. And anybody could put on a title.

I had a feeling we wouldn't be making it back by sundown.

Eventually the tree line came to an end, leading us to a rusted out ranger's station. There were several tattered tents surrounding it, kids filling the spaces. At least forty of them.

They were all so . . . still. Either curled up in some corner for warmth, or sitting stiffly in clusters. The only conversations were kept in whispers. The eyes brave enough to look at us were bloodshot. And the scent of smoke and urine nearly knocked me over. I listened to Eli gag from it.

The leading boy, I'd heard several of his comrades call him 'Mike', kicked in the door leading to the station. On the outside, it resembled a cabin. On the inside, it was nothing more than an empty warehouse, filled with trash can fires and circles of kids huddling to escape the icy wind.

All of them flinched back at the loud bang of the door, some pulling closer together and ducking down. I was looking at a sea of shaking hands and darting eyes. Every single one of these kids was thin. Gaunt.

Terrified.

I ducked my head lower beneath my hood.

Across the room sat yet another boy, his dark skin catching the dim light of the trashcan fires. A cigarette hung from his lip. A girl laid over his lap. And an uneven afro clung to his head. But that was nothing compared to the fuzzy blankets layered over the swivel chair he sat in - like it was some kind of throne. He couldn't have been any older than Steve.

"Ey," The boy shifted in his seat, making the girl on his lap flinch. He lifted the cigarette from his lip and blew out a long waft. "I see you brought in some fresh meat, Mikey."

"Yeah," He hooked his thumbs on to his belt loops proudly. "Found 'em down closer to the river. They were wearing these." He held out the glow coats they'd stripped off of us. "Looked like damn Christmas trees."

The King of the Stupids threw his head back, laughing so hard ribbons of smoke wafted above his mouth. Then everyone was laughing. But once he stopped, so did they. It was almost sickening how on cue everything was.

"But they sure did have some presents for us," Mike continued to snicker, dumping out our packs to reveal all the supplies we'd collected, most of which was from the League.

First aid kits. Food bars. Matches. Water bottles. The kind of stuff that made ever kid gather to ogle. But any boy with a gun was instantly kicking them back, piling up the supplies in front of them like some proud mountain.

"And look," He held up my serrator, walking forward to hand it to the kid on the throne. "This one even had a serrator."

"A _serrator,"_ The boy was near flabbergasted as he examined it. Very impressed. Very intrigued. He gave me a side glance. "Where'd you get it?"

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you mean," I said. "It belongs to me."

"What yours is mine, bambi," He replied, tossing the weapon back to Mike. "Everyone here has to earn their things."

Eli grumbled something under his breath.

"Larissa," He shoved the girl on his lap, landing her on her hands and knees across the floor. "Give this good man your blanket, he's earned it."

She froze, looking too stunned to move. So Mike simply stepped forward and ripped the blanket right off her back. Beneath it, she was wearing a stained T-shirt and a pair of someone's old boxers. No socks. No shoes.

The blanket now wrapped around his own shoulders, Mike grabbed the poor girl's arm and threw her to the side, letting a small group of other girls pull her into their circle. I tried very hard not to stare.

"Take that stuff to storage," He told Mike. "Then you and your guys can eat. As much as you want."

The group around us shared snickers and high-fives, gathering all our belongings and marching proudly out the doors. But that didn't mean all the guns had left the room. Several other boys, near identical to the ones that had brought us in, were gathered near the front of the room, flanking their king.

All it would take was one touch -

"Hey, wait a minute," Suddenly, he was leaning forward on his throne, stabbing the light end of his cigarette at us - at Steve. "I know you."

My eyes darted Steve's, but he was too busy squinting back to notice. Then his eyes blew wide. _"Logan?"_

"Well, would you look at that," He brought the cigarette back for another breath. "The Palchuk is still up and kicking."

"You know this guy?" I asked out the corner of my mouth.

"Old buddy from Arcadia," Steve whispered back. "He used to help me shove Eli in lockers."

Eli gave me a nod to confirm it.

'Logan' must've caught the movement and turned his eye towards the smallest of us. "Pepperjack," He grinned, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. "Good to see you're still around, especially after all the games we played in middle school. You still up to play?"

I could tell the jab was meant to be a joke, but Steve still pulled Eli protectively behind him. Logan didn't seem the find that funny.

"Look," Steve started. "We don't want any trouble -"

"Too bad," Logan snapped back. "You're already neck deep. Who's the girl?"

"Um," It took a moment for him to recover. "She - she's just a straggler we picked up."

"The straggler got a name?"

"Uh -"

"Hey," Logan snapped his fingers at me. "Eyes up here, bambi."

I fought the urge to roll them instead.

"You got a name?"

I met his gaze head on, feeling how solid he was. But he wasn't just solid, he was loose. Easy. He was in control. That was the only reason he was king at all. All shell, no meat. It made me wonder how the hell he managed to convince anyone he was the Trollhunter - let alone everyone here.

"Bambi's fine," I replied.

He gave me a slow grin, his eyes rolling up and down my figure. I forced myself to relax anyway, ignoring Steve's glare from beside me.

"Well, bambi," He took another draw of the cigarette. "Welcome to Trollmarket."

There was a moment of silence.

"You're kidding," Eli said. "Right?"

"I know," Logan gushed out a sigh. "Finding out your old pal from school is really a hero? It can be a lot to take in."

Eli cringed. "Something like that."

"So," He tapped the end of his cigarette. "What's your colors?"

"I'm Blue," Steve replied. "These two are Greens."

"So two Greens and Blue walk into my woods . . ." Logan rose from his chair, taking slow, easy steps towards us. "Now you, Palchuk, are mighty welcome here. All Blues are. We'll just have to see how good you do in initiation."

Initiation?

"Look, Logan -"

"That's Trollhunter to you."

Steve gritted his teeth. _"Trollhunter,_ we're not looking to get initiated into anything."

"Too bad," Logan gave a short laugh. "The only way you're ever gettin' outta here is if we dump your body in the river."

That was enough for everyone to go quiet.

"Besides, you should be more concerned with those two," He waved his finger between Eli and I, continuing to pace in front of us. "We don't take on weak ones. This isn't a pity parade or a homeless shelter. I'm not about to waste food on a useless _Green_. And no one here can vouch for you - well, Pepperjack, for you I'll let it slide. For old times sake. But you, bambi," He ran his tongue over his top lip, taking another step closer.

A few more steps and it would've been close enough.

"You'll have to find . . . other ways to prove yourself."

Beside me, Steve's hands were balled into fists. He opened his mouth before I could stop him, about to shoot something back when -

"I can vouch for her."

I whipped towards the voice, watching a figure rise from the corner of the room. I almost didn't recognize her.

"Darci?"

Her hair was just as unevenly cut as Logan's. Her chocolate-colored skin had paled to ash. Her cheeks were almost as sunken as her eyes. And the ratted clothes she wore hung off her body, her skin laid over birdlike bones.

But what caught my eye the most was the space above her right shoulder, just where it met her neck. It was puckered with puffy, pink scar tissue. Twisted and sickly. Like melted candle wax.

A small pattering sounded behind her, giving me a flash of white and brown fur before a certain corgi came up beside her leg, a golden tag gleaming in the firelight.

It was hard to hold back the smile.

"You know her?" Logan asked, easing back down in his chair.

Darci seemed to shrink under his gaze. "We traveled together for a while."

"She got a name?"

My throat tightened. Did Darci know? Did she even _understand_ what could happen if they knew -

She shrugged in reply. "We always called her Blondie."

The exhale came out shakily, my heart needing a few more breaths to calm back down.

Logan took a long draw of his cigarette, studying me as he thought. "Fine," He finally said. "Take 'em out back and show 'em around. The Three Musketeers are your problem now. And how many times do I need to tell you to keep that damn mutt out of here?"

I felt my fists clench. Even if the insult wasn't directed at me, the word still put my nerves on edge. Darci on the other hand, barely reacted. Wordlessly lowering down and scooping the dog into her arms, hearing it whine as it tried to paw its way back to the ground.

"Come on," She nodded her head towards the back door. "Follow me."

"Initiation is at sundown," Logan called as we trailed after her. "We'll see you then, Steve. Show everyone what the Palchuk was known for back in California, yeah?"

"Sure," Steve threw back a wary glance. "Trollhunter."

Stepping back into the icy wind without our coats forced goosebumps over my skin. The three of us instinctively drew together for warmth, our breath fogging together as we crunched through the snow after Darci.

She lead us several paces from the station, even from the tents until all conversations there were drowned out in the distance. Only then did she turn to us with tears in her eyes to ask: "Where's Toby?"

"He's okay," Steve replied, and I watched the visible relief crash over Darci's face. "He's with Jim and Claire. He was looking for you."

Darci put a hand over her mouth, her face crumpling into a sob. Luug sat up in her arms, whining alongside her hiccups and licking away her tears. I stepped forward too, wrapping her in a long-needed hug. I was careful to avoid the right side of her neck.

"How did you get here?" I asked, pulling back as Luug leapt into my arms. "What happened?"

"The battle at Trollmarket," She shook her head. "I got separated. The fight itself was getting attention, PSFs were coming, I didn't have any choice but to run."

"We understand," Eli said. And we did.

She took a measured breath to calm herself. "So Toby, he's close?"

We nodded.

"Does he know you were taken?"

"No," Steve replied. "And honestly, I hope it stays that way."

"This place is like a steel-trap," Darci spat. "When I heard the Trollhunter was near here, I risked everything to get back to them. But then . . . then . . ." She slid her hand the length of her throat, her fingers hesitating at the edge of the scar.

"Why don't people try to run?" Eli asked. "I mean, it doesn't seem like he treats even the Blues that well."

"If you try to run you'll hit the patrol," Darci replied. "And if you hit the patrol, you don't come back. It's already hard enough that he takes everything you own and forces you to 'earn' it back, but if you don't work hard enough, or suck up enough, or _entertain_ him enough, you get sent out here. Or you get traded."

". . . Traded?"

She glared fire at the ground. "That's how he gets food. You saw the blockades the city, right? All the soldiers? He brings in the kids he considers worthless, and he trades them for smokes and supplies. But now they're been asking for more and giving him less. Sooner or later they'll just raid us, but I guess he's managed to keep this place a secret."

I didn't realize I was trembling until Luug began whining in my arms.

"And of course - _of course,_ he takes the kids from the white tent, the ones no one would miss. He knows I can't do anything about it and that they can't fight back. The one time I tried, he took two kids instead of one."

Luug put his snout over my shoulder, snuggling under my chin as I scratched behind his floppy ears. Eli stood beside me, running his hand over Luug's fur coat. I had a feeling this was the closest we would be to warm for a while.

"He likes you," Darci said. She gave a humorless laugh. "Figures."

My head lifted. "What do you mean 'figures'?"

She blinked. "Isn't that why you're here? For Krel?"

All the breath was sucked right from my lungs. ". . . Wh-what?"

Eli leaned forward. "Krel's here?"

_"Where?"_ I demanded.

But Darci didn't answer. She just kept looking at me. The way people always look at me when they know. "He _is_ your brother, right?"

"Darci," I warned. "Tell me where he is."

"Did something happen between you two?"

"Darci -"

"'Cause he acts like he doesn't even _know_ you. He keeps saying he doesn't have any sisters. He didn't even know your _name_. And everytime I bring you up, he gets mad at me! I thought I was going crazy -"

_"Darci!"_

She stilled when she saw the tears in my eyes.

"Please," I whispered. "Tell me where my brother is."

The wariness faded in her at the words. She looked between Steve and Eli, but they must've had eyes just as pleading as mine because she couldn't look at them for long. Then she nodded her head back towards the tree line, slowly starting towards it. Luug leapt down from my arms, galloping ahead towards a large, white tent in the distance.

I don't remember pushing past Darci, I only remember following Luug. Taking off after him and tearing across the snow. I remember grabbing the fabric of the tent flaps, seeing how they were almost as pale as my hands. I remember the stench of mold and foul water punching down my throat. I remember the pallets underfoot that creaked and groaned as I stepped inside, one snapping altogether and my foot dipping into the freezing slush below.

There were so many of them - at least twenty-five kids, in rows on either side of the tent. Curled up on their sides, tangled in the thin sheets around them. Chests heaving. Skin glistening with sweat. A chorus of coughs and hoarse sobs.

And there was Krel, right in the center of them all.

**(A/N): *evil maniacal laughter fades into the distance* at this point i think im addicted to cliff hanger endings**


	16. 16

**Blood Is Thicker Than Floodwater**

I lied before.

To Varvatos. To Zadra. To Eli. To myself. Every single day.

But here was the truth. Tearing up and out of me, pulling me to the rotted center of the tent, rising like a whimper.

I regretted it.

Krel was lying on his side, shivering and wheezing as he tried to breathe. He wore only a grey T-shirt and sweatpants, nothing but a thin, yellowed sheet laid over him to keep out the cold. His lips were chapped. His hands were raw. And his hair was plastered to his forehead with icy sweat.

I regretted it. More than I thought I ever could. The sharp ache was so overwhelming, so crushing, I felt myself begin to double over before I had even stepped towards him.

Luug's soft fur brushed against my leg as he padded over, gently approaching Krel's side. With a soft whine, the corgi began sniffing his muzzle over the curves of Krel's face, licking at his forehead. It was enough for Krel to open his eyes.

The brown had taken on a glassy quality, fever-bright against his dirty face. But they were the eyes I remembered. Mama's eyes.

I missed him. I missed him, I missed him - oh my God, I had missed him so much.

His hands twitched towards Luug, a ghost of a smile appearing over his face as he buried his raw hands in the fur. "Hey . . ." His voice was so gravely. So exhausted. "Hey, Luug . . ."

It wasn't until he shifted, until Luug jumped up on his shoulder and forced him onto his back, that the dim light of the tent fully illuminated his face. And I saw it.

I dropped to my knees.

It was barely three feet of space I had to crawl to get by his side, but every movement sucked the life from me. My bones were sickeningly heavy. My muscles were twitching with weakness. And the horror inside me threatened to consume me like a fire.

It was so selfish of me, so terrible and sick, but for three long heart beats, all I could think was: _I should've kept him with me._

I prayed with every fiber of my being that it wasn't real. That it was just a trick of the light. But Luug confirmed it for me, leaning on Krel's shoulders to gently lick against it - as though that would somehow undo what had been done.

There, between Krel's brows, was an arch. A ridge, carved into his flesh.

A brand.

I leaned over him, my hands trembling as I reached for him. I remembered what it was like to be marked. More than remembered - it haunted me. The horror of being forced down like an animal. The helplessness that came with being hurt so intimately. The proof of it that was displayed for everyone to see.

I wouldn't wish it on anyone. And I would've given anything in that moment to take it from my little brother.

"No wonder he recognized you."

I lifted my watery eyes to Eli as he lowered himself across from me. My throat felt glued shut, painfully wound tight. Hot tears seared down my face. My shaking breaths barely keeping the scream at bay.

"The dog," Eli said. He was crying, too. "You and Krel must have similar scents. That's how he knew to bring you here."

My eyes fell back to Krel's limp, shivering form, and I felt myself shatter all over again. So many days and nights I had ached to have him at my side. So many lonely hours I would've given anything to have my other half back. Now here I was, and here he was, and it was so much worse than I could have ever imagined.

The sobs tore up through me, ripping and buckling my frame. The anguish hollowed me out, like claws shredding inside me until there was nothing left. But the pure, unadulterated fury kept me from going numb.

"Who did this to him?" The demand came out as a growl.

Darci swallowed. "Logan did."

I saw red.

"He wanted Krel to shock the other kids," She said. "If they wouldn't do what he said."

"Like . . ." Steve started, eyes red and wet. "Persuasion?"

"Like torture," She replied. "Krel refused and he's the only Yellow here so . . . Logan got this exacto knife and he heated it up until it was glowing and he tried to get me to hold him down and -"

"Darci," Eli cut her off, a sob of his own breaking past his lips. "We get it."

I was trembling. More than trembling. The rage was like a real, living thing inside me. My entire body was quivering with it. Like a bomb about to explode.

"I'll kill him," I gasped, tears raking down my face. "I swear to _God_ I will _kill_ him."

"How long has he been like this?" Eli asked.

Darci gave a hesitant shrug. "He was brought here like, a week ago. He was already sick - just a cold. But it turned into a fever, and then . . . this."

Gasping in a breath, I stretched out my trembling hand and laid it against his forehead - just above the scar. His skin was unnaturally hot and clammy, so much so my fingers felt numb from the change in temperature.

Krel's eyelids fluttered. I drew my hand back automatically, but then found myself lingering, brushing his matted hair away from his eyes. It was the shaggiest I'd ever seen it.

His eyes opened and they darted back and forth for a moment, trying to see Luug now crouching at my hip. But when they landed on me, something changed. The glassiness seemed to peel back. His face softened with attention. He even tried to pry himself up on his elbows, a timid hand reaching up to my face.

For one horrible moment, I almost thought -

"Papa . . .?"

And that was somehow worse.

"Papa . . ." Krel moaned, his fingers brushing the skin just under my eyes. "Papa . . . "

"Shh," I whispered, holding my hand over his. "Krel, can you - can you hear me?"

"Papa, I-I'm sorry . . ." He murmured, shaking his head back and forth. "I couldn't find . . . I lost her . . ."

What?

"Krel," I brushed my free hand over his burning forehead, trying to calm his cloudy eyes. "It's alright. Everything will be alright, I promise."

"I'm sorry," He pleaded. "I lost her . . . Papa, I don't - I don't know what to do . . . He's coming -"

"What is he talking about?" Steve asked. "Why is he calling you that?"

Eli glanced back at Darci. "Is he always this disoriented?"

"He won't let me," Krel's eyes began to roll back with exhaustion, his hand slipping from my cheek. "I lost her, Papa - and he won't let me . . ."

Krel's words ended when his face contorted with pain, the last of his energy spent trying to cough. Deep, wet coughs that shook his entire frame and left him gasping for air. He twisted to the side as he tried to breathe, his hand falling limply from mine.

Luug crawled forward from where he'd crouched at my hip, slipping under Krel's arm and snuggling against his torso. He was keeping him warm.

"I think he has pneumonia," Darci said. "I think most of the kids here have it."

"How can you be sure?" Eli asked.

She held out her hand. "Look at him. What else could he have?"

Giving Luug a last scratch behind the ears, I pulled the stained sheet up over Krel's shoulders, enveloping them both. "What are you treating them with?"

Something in Darci's eyes shattered. "Nothing," She blurted, almost gasping. "There's _nothing._ I have to beg for food, we're surrounded by water - we're drowning in it! And I can't get a drop of the fresh stuff!"

"It's okay," Steve held out his hands. "Darci, it's okay. We know you're trying -"

"Do you have anything in the car?" I looked back at him. "With Jim and the others?"

Steve shook his head, a mix of horror and anguish in his eyes. "Nothing strong enough for this."

"We need to get them warm, dry, and hydrated before anything else," Eli said. "There's got to be something we can -"

"I've tried so many times!" Darci cried, gripping fistfuls of her hair as tears tracked down her face. "He won't move the sick ones into the warehouse. Most of them aren't Blues, and they only got this bad because he refused to give them work, and if you don't work, you don't get food. You can't come into the warehouse. He's trying to hide them from the others."

"Well, he can't hide them from me." I rose to my feet, the fury like fire in my chest, fueling my march towards the door.

"Uh, where are you going?" Steve jumped up after me, blocking my path.

I stepped around him. "I'm going to take care of this."

"Absolutely not," Eli was on his feet too. "What happens if someone catches you swaying him? What if one of those perverts grabs you before you can? What if they find out who you are? Don't you _ever_ think things through -"

"Eli," I cut him off, salt raking my voice. "What else can I do?"

He went silent. We all did.

"Steve," I finally said. "Do you remember how to start a fire inside a tent?"

He nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"I'll look for Krel's coat," Eli said. "The flash drive's probably there."

"Flash drive?" Darci perked up. "No, it - it's not there. I have it. He gave it to me for safe keeping. He said it was important, but he never told me what it was."

I gave her a single nod. "Then we have all we need." And I turned towards the door.

"Aja," Darci called. I looked back. "Take him down."

"I'll do more than that," I replied. "I'm going to ruin him."

**(A/N): sorry its so short, but this scene really needed its own space. hope ya'll enjoyed the cliff hanger ;)**


	17. 17

**A Hoodie A Day Keeps The Assholes Away**

The boy guarding the door to the Ranger's station looked at least two years younger than I was, but he did stand taller and wider. A few months ago, that would've been a real obstacle.

"Stay where you are," He called out, watching me stalk toward him. "You're not allowed inside, not until Logan says so."

I could tell just by the grip he had on his gun he didn't know how to use it - or didn't want to. Either way, it worked to my advantage.

I reached and brushed my fingers against his outstretched hand, stopping the memories before they bubble up and out of control. The fury in my chest made it easier somehow, more precise.

"Sit down and stay down," I snapped.

Adjusting my hood over my scar one last time, I shoved passed him into the dim light of the station. I didn't get three steps in before a girl came to stand in front of me, blocking my path. Her greasy blonde hair was tied back into a pony tail and her eyes were full of worry, head shaking rapidly as she tried to push me back.

Was she the only female hunter?

"You can't be here," She hissed in a whisper. "Just go back before he sees -"

Too late.

"Well, well, well . . ." Logan called from his throne. He had a bowl of raisins on his lap. "Look what the wind blew in."

There were twice as many kids in the space now, scattered in their little circles around Logan's chair, bags of chips and cereal boxes in front of them. But those at the far end of the station were simply sprawled out on the cement. No fire and no food for them.

I forced a deep breath in, relaxing my face into a fake smile. A confident smile. I forced my strut to be slow, sure of myself. Not fueled by an explosion of blinding rage. Everything inside me was screaming just to jump at him. Tackle him out of the air and rip his mind to shreds for what he'd done to Krel. To all the kids here.

And I would. I just needed to be patient.

Logan leaned forward, the bowl of raisins tucking against his stomach. "Something you wanna say, bambi?"

"I was just wondering," I slipped my freezing hands into the back pockets of my jeans, casually leaning back. "What would it take to convince you to let me go out on hunts?"

Logan threw his head back and laughed, long and loud. So naturally, everyone laughed too. Everyone but me.

"You?" Mike scoffed from where his sat cross legged at Logan's right. "A _Green?"_

"What's the matter?" I asked. "Don't tell me you're afraid I'll prove there's nothing special about you Blues after all. I've always heard you guys are all brawn, no brain."

Judging by the look on his face, by the looks on everyone's faces, no one had ever talked to him like that. His eyes locked on mine almost numbly, torn between fascination and being very, very angry.

Good.

Logan stood slowly, tapping the ash from his cigarette onto the ground.

That's it, I thought. Come here and take the bait.

The trickle at the back of my mind erupted into a roar. I could do this. One step closer, and I'd show him why they ranked my kind as Orange, and his only as Blue. I would shred him down to nothing.

"How about a trade?" I asked. "No work, no food, right? You let me join one of your hunting teams so I can eat, and I'll provide enough food to feed everyone for the winter."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"You think I'm joking?" I folded my arms. "You saw what was in our packs. That's just what we could carry. We had to leave a mountain of it behind."

Steve's words echoed in the back of my mind. A warehouse in Harrisburg. I wonder if any of what he talked about was left. But I guess it didn't really matter. What mattered was selling it.

"There was canned food, walls of it - and gallons of clean water. Toilet paper even," I added. That part really got to some of the kids. "Clothes, blankets, you name it. You could stock this place nicely."

It had gone so silent, I could hear the _plink, plink, plink_ of water dripping from a nearby leak in the roof. Suddenly kids were glancing back and forth at each other, intrigued. Questioning. Even if they didn't believe me, they _wanted_ to. And that's what mattered.

But before whispers could start, Logan stomped loudly on the concrete. "Oh yeah?" He barked. "And where is this wonderland? Half past nowhere, straight on into your imagination?"

"Why would I tell you," I tilted my head innocently, "when you won't give me what I want?"

Without warning, invisible hands punched against my chest, throwing me hard onto the cement. I barely had time to duck my head before my hood went flying off of it. My teeth clacked together from the force, the edge of my tongue barely escaping them. Hoarse laughter from every boy with a gun rang through the air.

"You think I need to trade you something?" Logan spat. "You think I don't have other ways of making you and your friends talk?"

I pressed my hands flat on the frigid concrete, my wrists throbbing from trying to catch myself. This boy had more pride than greed - something I hadn't expected but should've. He wasn't a soldier. He wasn't a leader. He was a bully. I needed to start handling him like one.

"Sure you do," I rose on steady feet. "But are you willing to risk waiting until the National Guard comes to clear it out?"

"Logan!" Mike stood as well, finally finished with me pushing their buttons. "You gonna take this from her?"

"What?" I rested a hand on my hip. "Scared of a few little soldiers? Is that why you keep trying to prove me wrong? Because you're scared of what will happen if I'm right?"

"Oh, c'mon." I turned to see the girl that had stopped me at the door step forward, her blonde hair catching the firelight. "You know it sounds too good to be true. We've been up and down the river a million times and have never found anything more than scraps."

"So you'd blow an opportunity like this?" I held out my arms. "When you've already seen the proof?"

Logan's nostrils flared. He was reaching the end of his patience, and honestly, so was I.

_Come on_, I thought, fuming. _Come on!_

But the blonde behind me blew it.

"I could go with her - make sure she's not trying to pull a fast one. I'd be happy to take another trip back with a team and get the supplies -"

"Oh, _you_ could?" Mike snarled. _"You'd_ be happy to? Whose team are you talking about? Mine? You think I don't know what you're trying to pull, dumbass? That I haven't been watching you and that Scott girl's weak-ass attempts at stealing my game -?"

Logan held up a hand, stopping them before anything could escalate. "The answer is no," He spat. "Not now. Not ever."

"I should've known," I sighed, shaking my head as though scolding a child. "You left those kids out in the freezing cold to die. Why would you ever care enough to give everyone here the food and supplies they need?"

And finally, I hit the wrong button.

I braced for Logan's outburst to be loud and explosive. But he was only eerie silence as he approached, his lividness making his movements stiff.

I fought very hard to keep the smirk off my face.

"Mike," He hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes not moving from mine. "Take this . . . _pearl_ of a girl outside."

"But," The blonde began again. "What about the supplies . . ."

Logan flew towards her in a blur, his fist clipping the girl at the corner of her jaw. She went sprawling to the ground.

"Take her _outside,"_ He growled. "She's so damn eager to be a hunter, then she can prove it at initiation tonight, like everyone else had to."

When his eyes fell back to me, I knew it was my last chance. Lowering my chin ever so slightly, I looked up at him through my blonde lashes. Just an innocent curve of my mouth. A careful posture leaning towards him. And as angry as he was, his tongue still ran over his teeth as he watched me.

Finally, he took the bait.

"If you get through," His growl was suddenly very breathy. "Then you're on. But if I see your pretty face one more time before I send someone to get you, well . . ." He rolled his eyes up and down my figure one last time. "You won't like what I'll have to do to you then."

I held my hand over the twelve inches separating us, extending my pinky. "Promise?"

Logan's mouth tightened, as if trying to hold in a smug laugh. Then his hand raised to mine, and just when his finger came into reach, his shifted to grab a strand of blonde hanging out of my hood. Before I could even react to the tug, he pressed the burning red end of the cigarette into the base of my palm, snuffing it out against the flesh there.

For such a small burn, the sting of it nearly blinded me. I ripped my hand back on instinct, gasping at the raw pain pricking up to my wrist.

Logan's laugh was just as breathy as before, pivoting on his heel and making his way back to his throne. That was it. I'd missed my chance. And the burn stung all the worse.

"This was fun, bambi," Logan lowered himself back in his swivel chair, tossing a raisin into his mouth. "Let's do it again sometime."

And they dragged me away.

Around the other side of the station, out of sight from anyone inside or in tents, sat a caged in area where dead power generators and AC units were locked up. As soon as it came into view, I felt myself seize up. I wasn't going into another cage. Not again.

But bucking and screaming didn't do much against the Blues. With one final shriek from me, they lifted me off the ground and plummeted me right into the entrance, watching me skid to a stop in the snow before shackling the gates closed again.

It wasn't until they left that I buried my blistering hand in the slush, the pain of the burn cutting through every other thought. I swallowed the whimper in my throat, flexing my fingers little by little to stop the trembling.

"Hey, are you -?"

I jerked at the voice, stumbling back and scrambling away until the fading light illuminated Steve's face. I exhaled a shaky breath, still cradling my wounded hand. "God, you scared me."

"Why'd they take you here?" He asked, squatting down next to me. "What happened in there?"

"Logan's putting me through initiation," I replied, wincing as I lowered my hand back into the snow. "Why are you here?"

"Got busted for trying to start a fire," He said. "What happened to your hand?"

I tried to wave him off, but his gentle hands prodded anyway, tenderly lifting my hand from the snow and turning my wrist over. The burn was a single bubble on the flesh, surrounded by red, angry skin. Like a firework with a perfect center.

He looked back up at me. "Did he do this to you?"

I shrugged weakly.

Steve blew out a hot breath. "That _asshole_ . . ."

"I'm fine," I promised.

"I don't care." Lifting my hand, he pressed a kiss to my fingertips. "He touches you again and he'll be answering to me."

I lowered my hand back in the slush, doing my best to ignore the sting. "I can't believe you used to be friends."

"Neither can I."

When I glanced up again, he was staring through the bars, absently watching the wind go back and forth through the snowy trees.

"Hey," I reached up with my good hand, turning his face towards mine. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "It's just crazy to think about."

"What is?"

He leaned into my hand, ducking his head closer to mine. "I could've been just like him."

"Steve -"

"I _was_ just like him, Aja," He cringed at the thought. "He helped me make Pepperjack's life miserable - and back then, everything was my idea. He just went along with it. And now . . ." He gave a heavy sigh. "Maybe that's how he got all these ideas."

"From watching you?" I shifted closer to him, shaking my head. "Steve, you were a middle school bully. Logan? He's a monster. And I know a thing or two about monsters."

"'Cause you still think you are one?"

My words died in my throat. I could only meet his gaze for so long before my eyes dropped to my wounded hand. There was nothing I could say. Nothing I could do to make him understand what I'd done. Who I had become over these months. His abilities were so easy to control, just an extension of himself.

But mine . . .

Steve's fingers brushed under my chin, applying just enough pressure to raise my face to his. "If you were a monster," He said. "I would call you one. Remind me again what I call you instead?"

I just shook my head in reply, leaning back. I didn't want this conversation. I didn't want him putting me on a pedestal I didn't deserve. I didn't want the empty lecture that would only put a nail through my heart, proving yet again how alone I was.

_You are alone and you always will be._

It wasn't until Steve began reaching for me again that I realized how hard he was trying not to shiver. I'd at least had my hoodie under my coat, Steve on the other hand and been left in nothing but a blue T-shirt.

"You must be freezing," I muttered, pushing him back until we were propped against the wall of the station. "Come here."

Climbing over his lap, I gripped his frozen hands in mine and slipped them into the pockets of my hoodie for warmth.

"Aja," He started. "What did I -?"

"Steve, please," I whispered. "Just let me warm you up." And I pulled him into my arms.

He sighed as he buried his face in my neck, his breath warm against my collar. I cupped my hands over his cherry red ears, trying to offer as much heat as I could without making my burn sting any worse.

I rubbed his bare arms to chase away the goosebumps. Scrubbing my good hand over his back for the warmth that came with friction. Then I leaned back and pulled his hands from my pockets, cradling them in mine and raising them to my lips. I breathed gently between my own fingers, letting his hands capture the heat.

I'd held his hands like that for only ten seconds before his fingers spread, reaching through mine to hold my face. I only had time to take one last breath before he kissed me.

His lips were cold, but his mouth was warm. So I let my eyelids sink and my arms hug him closer. I could feel the message from how tender his lips were. How this was his way of apologizing. Of finishing the conversation I ended.

"I'm sorry," I said against his lips.

He gave me a soft smile. "Just keep warming me up, angel."

That, I could do.

Covering his mouth with mine, I entangled the fingers of my good hand into his hair and pushed him harder against the wall behind us. I felt his hands move along my hips, flattening against the small of my back to pull me as flush as possible to him. It was the kind of kiss we used to have, back at Trollmarket. Back when we could be careless. When we could let everything else fall away.

"If I had a dollar for every time I caught you guys sucking faces . . ."

My lips came off Steve's with a loud smack, my neck craning to see Eli standing outside of the bars, our coats bundled in his arms.

"Pepperjack," Steve held up my arms to bring us both to our feet. "What are you doing here? You're gonna get caught!"

"Oh, please," Eli rolled his eyes. "Besides, I figured you guys could use these."

He shoved the coats through the bars, and we were too cold to refuse them.

"What happens when someone sees us in these?" Steve asked.

"Eh," Eli waved a hand. "Darci said it's a thing here. That if you can get your own stuff back before initiation, it's a good luck charm or something."

"Weird."

Eli glanced over at me. "What happened to swaying him?"

"I blew it," I replied, bitterly. "I was right there. _He_ was right there. He got so close, but then . . ." I held out my hand for him to see.

Eli winced. "Yikes."

"I should've used my other hand," I spat. "I should've been faster. I should've -"

"Cut yourself some slack," Eli interrupted. "If you recovered fast enough to do something, then you really wouldn't be human."

"As opposed to what?"

"An alien?" He shrugged. "An unfeeling, heartless creature who feeds on other's misery and never cries unless it's tears of blood?"

Steve's eyes were wide. "Whoa there, buttsnack . . ."

I laughed under my breath. "Is that what everyone at HQ told you I was?"

"I did tell you how they called you Xenomorph, right?" Eli said, using his fingers to make air quotes. "'The League's living weapon'."

"Creative," I replied. "Fitting."

"I found Krel's Chatter by the way," He said. "Or . . . what was left of it. The thing was completely smashed. I'm starting to realize why he gave the flash drive to Darci."

I felt my left pocket, breathing out a sigh of relief to find my own Chatter was still there.

Eli nodded along with me. "Lucky, right?"

"How're you feeling?" Steve asked.

Eli exhaled shallowly. "Honestly, not great. My mouth doesn't hurt anymore, but breathing isn't getting any easier."

"Wait," Steve leaned forward. "Your _mouth?"_

Dropping his jaw, Eli stuck out his tongue inches from the bars, showcasing the large hole he'd bitten straight through it.

"Holy hell," Steve gaped. "You gave yourself a tongue piercing?"

Eli shrugged, pulling his tongue back into his mouth. "It'll close up eventually."

"But still," Steve's eyes were wide as he thought. "How are you even gonna eat now? I mean, stuff will just fall right through -

"Rest while you can," I told him. "We'll be leaving here. Tonight."

**(A/N): so guess who the blond girl's based off?**


	18. 18

**Due To Personal Reasons I Am Now An Urban Legend**

It was twilight when they came for us again, scoffing and chortling as they noticed we were wearing our coats again. Cackles of laughter echoed off the concrete as they launched into 'Oh Christmas Tree' in honor of my festively colored jacket. It was a blessing when they finally shoved pillowcases over our heads and dragged us from the cage.

The mud splashed up my boots as we walked, making me grimace from the cold. Just sitting in that cage had somehow exhausted us, my skin prickling with fatigue as we were marched across the swamp land.

At least we'd be inside soon. At least it would be dry.

But we never did go inside. I heard the doors to the station groan open and closed as we passed it. I heard whispers and voices from the other kids that followed us. But the walk never seemed to end.

My boots and socks were soaked by the time my feet hit concrete again. The air around us was sizzling with heat, making my skin pucker from the change in temperature. The smell of smoke burned in my nose. But when I heard the roar, the cheers and cries up ahead, I recognized them instantly.

They were the same kind of cheers I'd hear at my basketball games in Arcadia. At my volleyball games. Track meets. Soccer playoffs.

The roar of an awaiting crowd.

The pillowcase was ripped back viciously, the blaring lights before me blinding me as I stumbled forward. We were in a building, inside - but not quite. It was further down towards the river, like an old warehouse. Maybe another ranger's station, but it was far too destroyed to ever know for sure.

The far wall had collapsed in on itself, leaving the place looking like an open box. I stumbled again as the kids shoved us forward, Steve's knees buckling entirely and falling flat against the crumbled pavement. I ducked down to grab him, hauling him up best I could with all the pushing.

The inside of the building had been hollowed out completely. One floor with a bare wall, everything covered in scorch marks - and the long shadows of the crowd projected across the cement. The empty space of the floor was taken up by a ring of metal trash cans, golden flames leaping up past their lips. Being pushed to the center of it was scorching against my raw skin.

The other kids were curved around the ring, shouting, jeering, and backed up as far as possible. Except for Logan, of course. He was front and center, still sitting in his oh-so precious swivel chair with Mike at his side. The sight of him sent a prick of pain through my palm.

"Hellooo, fresh meat," Logan called, rising to his feet. "You ready for the fight of your lives?"

"I could bring him over here," Steve whispered to me. "Catch the bastard off guard and put him right in your hands."

"Too many guns," I whispered back. "Too many Blues."

A small bark cut through the crowd, making me turn to see Eli and Darci huddled off to the side, Luug in her arms. Eli had his hands curved around his mouth. He was shouting something to us: _Dead_.

"The rules here are simple," Logan said. "You get pushed out of the ring, you're out of the fight. You get knocked out, you're out of the fight. And I," He glanced at me, wetting his bottom lip, "get to do whatever I want with you."

Steve tensed, but I grabbed his arm, giving it a hard squeeze before he could shout anything in reply.

"There are no mercy calls," Logan continued. "The only way out is to stay standing or throw yourself out. Got it? Oh - and how could I forget? Because it's the two of you, I'm bending my own rules. No powers. This is a fist fight for you two. So don't hold back."

Steve and I locked eyes. So we really would have to fight each other. I'd been preparing for this, spending the time previous thinking of the fastest way to beat him without cheating. But Steve didn't look all too thrilled at the idea of me literally kicking him through a ring of fire.

"You'll go easy on me," He gave a nervous laugh as he turned to me. "Right?"

"Sorry," I winced, then looked back at Logan. "What about the deal? Supplies in exchange for letting me join one of the hunting parties?"

Logan stiffened at the word 'supplies'. But kids across the crowd leaned forward, the same questioning eagerness left there.

"God," He rolled his eyes. "You girls never stop talking, do you? Win, and maybe I'll think about it."

I took several steps back and let my eyes flicker over Steve's form again. I could still see the bruising across his jaw from when I'd smacked him with the flashlight. I only hoped I wouldn't have to add too much to it.

How hard would I have to hit him to knock him out in one blow?

"Bring him in!"

Both our heads swerved back to Logan, watching him settle back into his chair. Mike and several others around him clustered off to a pair of metal, double doors on the far side of the wall. They were chained shut.

Logan howled at our reactions. "What? You actually thought you were gonna fight each _other?_ Ha!"

I stepped back from the door, Steve's hands going protectively around my elbows. At the clicking of a lock coming undone, the entire crowd went dead silent. Nothing but whispers and breaths, unwashed bodies and clothes shifting anxiously.

A Blue ripped the chains from the handles of the door, still standing at least ten feet away. The door instantly began to creak open, revealing a dark, orange light coming from inside.

Every breath in the crowd was stifled as new sounds replaced it. A low moaning. Growling. _Purring._ And the scrape of something being dragged against concrete.

A bead of sweat went down my back, a jolt of terror freezing in me as a throaty scream echoed from the room. A jangle of what could only be more chains. Steve was clinging me against him, his breath just as shaky as mine.

The light got stronger, brighter as the figure came into view. Then it vanished all together. And we were left with the stranger standing in the doorway.

"What . . ." Steve breathed in my ear, "the . . . _hell?"_

The boy wasn't any older than thirteen, paler than paper and dressed in the tattered remains of camo pants. His shirt barely clung to his sunken chest. A crumpled dog tag hung around his neck. Plastic bags were strapped around his waist to keep the pants up, making me wonder if he'd once been much bigger.

Both of his raw, bleeding wrists were wrapped in chains, linked down to were his feet were cuffed. There was a strip of leather over his mouth, keeping it wound shut. It looked like they'd tried to construct a makeshift muzzle.

But I wished they had covered his eyes instead.

Crusted with blood and mucus, splotched with bruises and places where the skin had split, his eyes pierced right through the shag of his bangs. His pupils were blown out so wide they looked completely black. Bottomless as he looked right through us.

I realized what Eli had been screaming to me all at once.

_Red, Aja. Red._

Oh, God -

"May I introduce you to Twitch." Logan was leaned back in his seat, very much enjoying the horror plastered over our faces. "I picked him up in Nashville after he bolted from the PSF holding his leash. He was stumbling around, jerking like some tweaker. He's come a long way since I started training him." He took a breath of his cigarette. "I think you guys are gonna get along real well."

Twitch made good on his name as he shuffled forward, his head cocking to the right, then left, then back. In between each jerk of a movement, the glassiness of his eyes seemed to peel back, for only a moment at a time. Like he was lost and confused. Like he was looking for something.

Logan put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. And for one moment, everything was still. Then Twitch extended one, bloody hand.

Steve lifted me off the ground and threw me to the side in one pull. I hit the cement hard, rolling and tumbling away from the kick of fire hurled at the spot we previously occupied. Steve had crashed onto his back, scrambling to his feet and then my side again.

Twitch snapped his fingers and the air around us grew hot, eating away the oxygen and leaving us gasping as we flew apart once again. I rolled a few extra times, frantically trying to put out the flames eating at the inseam of my jeans. My injured hand felt like it had caught fire all on its own.

A loud bang made my head whip up again, watching Steve crash into one of the trash cans around us. Fire spilled out onto the concrete, licking and racing over the ground towards us. Twitch raised his hands to the dying flames and suddenly they were ten feet tall, dividing Steve and I between a wall of fire.

_Now or never, Aja._

My sweat-slicked hands slipped on the concrete as I scrambled to my feet, running full sprint at Twitch's side. If I could catch him off guard, just for a moment, I could end this. Logan wanted a fist fight? He was about to get one.

I crashed into Twitch's side with a hard thud. The wall dissipated into a lake. And we were sent sprawling over each other just inches from it. I gasped through the smoke, my eyes burning as I tried to throw a punch. Even through his clothes, his skin felt like hot metal.

His scorching hand punched at my sternum and suddenly I was being branded again. Suddenly I was trapped in an oven with heat eating me alive. With a shriek, I tore forward through the pain, desperate to get to skin. But then my vision was filled with fire. There was no time to move out of the way -

"Aja!"

Invisible hands hit my side, sending me soaring to my left, scraping to a stop safely out of the line of fire. The ends of my hair on the left side were singed. I could feel a second burn blistering across my chest. Bits of my coat had melted and crumpled, but it was still as shimmering and blue as ever. The firelight seemed to make it ten times more so, like I was a walking bike reflector.

_"Hey!"_ Logan jumped to his feet. "I said no -"

It wasn't until that moment that I realized my hood had fallen back.

Logan squinted with fury. "Wait a minute . . ."

I jumped to my feet anyway, sprinting across the hot ground to Steve. He caught me roughly, tugging us so we stood with Twitch between us and Logan. I even caught Eli's face, crumpled with terror.

"Aja, I - I'm sorry," Steve panted, gulping. "I didn't mean to, but he wasn't gonna stop -"

"It's okay," I said, cradling his face with my good hand. But my eyes still darted back to Logan.

He was standing stiffly as he watched us, eyes narrowed and squinted with hatred. Everything went still, even Twitch, as the king decided his verdict.

"Should we pull her out?" Mike asked.

"No," Logan relaxed with an easy grin, lowering himself back into his chair. "Let's let her burn, too."

A roar came from the crowd, and another from inside my chest. Just you wait, Logan. Just. You. Wait.

Between us, Twitch began pacing back and forth like a panther, waiting to lure in his prey. He wasn't twitching and jerking anymore. His movements were clear and sharp. Trained. Conditioned.

"Darklands," I gasped to Steve. "That's where Twitch is from."

He nodded, pointing to Twitch's arms. They were covered in the same scars Jim's were.

"What do we do?"

My lip was dripping with blood from when I'd collided with the ground. My hand and my sternum were screaming with a rough sting. My eyes and lungs burned. I was spent - both of us were. But Twitch was already preparing for another round.

I remembered what Jim had told me about the Darklands. I remembered the whispers I'd heard in the League. How they conditioned those kids. Destroyed them. Breaking them down into something less than human. And here their good work sat, trained and conditioned into one task: _kill_.

"We charge him at once," I finally said.

_"What?"_

"Think about it," I breathed. "He can shoot fire from his hands, but look how much concentration it takes. His abilities aren't so different from ours, they take effort."

"If we both charge him," Steve murmured. "We'll overwhelm him."

"Exactly."

Logan slammed a fist onto the arm of his chair. "Shut up and fight!"

"Distract him," I said. "I'll end it."

Steve and I flew apart once again to evade yet another ball of fire hurled in our direction. I watched Steve jump to his feet, sprinting in zig zags across the ring. Twitch growled and shrieked with frustration, chasing Steve with tongues of fire. But there was a reason he had been such a good soccer player.

I cut across the pools of flames over the concrete, feeling the soles of my boots turn squishy from the heat. But this time, Twitch saw me coming. A wave of his hand and I was forced to dive out of the way, the heels of my hands going raw as I skidded. My side smacked against the burning side of a trash can, wobbling it back and forth. I barely had enough time to scramble back before it toppled over.

Steve's scream made me jolt back up, just in time to witness Twitch finally catch him. The Red had his hands wrapped around Steve's neck, tackling him down like an animal. His fist raised a tongue of fire that lifted off the concrete, coming to curl around his arm like a snake.

They were screaming outside of the ring, Eli's desperate cries cutting above everything else. I even heard Luug yelping in alarm. But I didn't hear the sound we needed. Logan wasn't going to stop him.

No one was.

I brought my fingers to my mouth, desperately trying to recreate Logan's whistle. But my lungs were raw from the smoke. I couldn't get a strong enough breath out of my stinging chest. I couldn't - I couldn't do it -

The flames closed around Twitch's fist, him winding it back one last time. He's going to kill him, he's going to kill him, he's -

_"Red!"_ I screamed.

Everything went silent. Twitch froze. Logan froze. Every single person there went stock still. Then Twitch lifted his head to look at me, and just like that, he was mine.

It was almost unconscious when the warmth took over. Like a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. I felt it start in my mind - the anger and terror, desperation and determination peeling back the layers of power till they shot through me like electricity. The same warmth I'd felt when I broke from Seamus's hold back in Trollmarket.

But ten times as strong.

Whenever I fall into someone's mind, it's slippery. Rough. The river of memories is suffocating and unforgiving. But Twitch was different. He was broken.

I had to stab my way through his mind, like a knife through shattered glass, stinging and cutting the whole way. His memories were so sharp and small. Here and gone before I could even fathom what they were. I had to stab harder to slow it down.

I felt a dip in my core as I went down a slide. I saw a man laughing while he cut tomatoes. I saw a line of teddy bears and a name spelled out in block letters. Then it all bled to black. Black and horror.

Black boots. Wire fences. Whips. Knives. Small, tormenting cuts seeping red across my arms. Mud. Digging. The pinch of a muzzle. Something moving in the dark, like a living nightmare. It tried to speak, and everything exploded to white.

The kids around us were screaming - but not like a crowd. Like a mob. Crazed with confusion and shock. I watched them run and shift back and forth out of my peripherals, but I didn't look away from Twitch once. They could hiss and scream all they wanted. This Red was mine now. Without a single touch of skin.

I raised my hand, palm flat out, watching Twitch rise with me while Logan's roars echoed in the background. I felt a smirk come across my face, wondering how well Logan would do against his own pet.

Twitch only stared at me, pupils shrinking to nothing then blowing out just as wide as before, waiting for a command. A command I was all too happy to give.

But then -

_Buster._

That was his name. The one spelled out on his door. The one Uncle Stu cried in excitement whenever he came to the food truck.

It wasn't a river of memories that struck me. More a river of emotions, smacking me square in the chest and punching the breath from my lungs. My brain was suddenly scrambling, trying to process what had just happened. What was still happening.

His name was Buster. He lived in a house with blue walls and a white fence. Stuart helped him make dinner every night, the spicy scent always captivating. He had White Sox posters on his bedroom wall. He rode his bike in the abandoned lot behind his house. He had friends and a dog, and all of them disappeared when the men came and took him in the van.

His name was Buster, and he had a life.

Just as suddenly as the connection was made, it was lost.

Buster stumbled back, dazed and horrified. His eyes were darting madly at the scene around him, at the chains still locked around his wrists and ankles. His fingers tore at them desperately, But when they touched the muzzle, he began to scream.

Then he dropped to his knees, and all I could hear was my own heartbeat until a sickening crack cut over it.

"Stop it!" I heard Steve scream. "Stop!"

Buster was on all fours, his limbs as spread as the chains would allow, smashing his skull against the pavement. His neck strained with the effort, Steve tearing at his shoulders to end it. God, he was so small.

_"Stop!"_

But he didn't, not until I flew forward and stuck my hands between the heavy bone and unforgiving cement. The scent of fresh blood cut through the smoke, making my stomach churn as I felt it slick in my hands, over his forehead and in his hair.

So, so small.

Steve leapt forward at my side, our hands ripping the makeshift muzzle off the boy's face. And his sobs broke free, his hands clinging to me.

". . . Help me," He pleaded. "Please, please help me, please, I can't - not anymore, oh God, oh God, they're coming again, I see them, they're coming in the dark -"

"It's okay," I choked, tears raking over the scrapes across my face. "It's okay, Buster. You're safe -"

"Help me," He sobbed. "Please . . . I wanna go home."

"It's going to be okay," I promised, cradling his face and looking into his eyes. They were amber, near crimson in the firelight. "I can make it all go away, Buster. Let me make it all go away."

_"Please . . ."_

I dove into his mind without any hesitation. It was so much easier the second time, like scrubbing a window until clean rays of light shine through.

I left nothing but the skinned knees. The days of sunshine at the park. The soft hugs from his Uncle Stu. The taco-eating competitions in front of a vibrant sunset. The godawful stench in the back of the food truck that he never seemed to mind. Only the good. He deserved that. He deserved to be free.

When his eyes came back to the surface again, the numbness of the process fading from his face, the first thing he saw was me. He blinked several times, looking down at his hands still clinging to me. And mine clinging back.

He looked back up at me, and his eyes flooded with relief. Like I had taken a weight off his shoulders that had been there for far too long. Like I had pulled him up from underwater. And his eyes filled with something else. Something as soft as the trembling smile his lips were trying to make: hope.

The bullet came so fast.

I didn't have time to stop it. To doge it. To shield from it. And neither did Steve.

It struck Buster at the side of his head, blowing it to the left and collapsing him in a heap on the ground. Scorching hot blood splattered over my front. Across the pavement. In my face. A puddle of it forming from beneath his body, getting wider and wider until it soaked my knees.

"No!" I heard Steve scream, but it sounded like it was from underwater. "Damn you! _Goddamn_ you!"

It was that quick. I couldn't look away from his body, his amber eyes lifeless and staring. He could've been okay. I could've taken him back to his Uncle Stu. He - he could've -

But it was over. And all I could do was stare.

"I missed," Logan said. I turned my head, almost robotically. He was still sitting on his throne, holding Mike's gun across his lap. "Oh well. Mom always said it was important to throw out broken toys."

"You son of a bitch," Steve spat, his voice shaking as tears flowed down his face. _"You son of a -"_

"Yeah, wet get it, Palchuk." Logan rolled his eyes. "Personally, I'm more concerned with your girlfriend over there."

Whispers and shouts erupted again. They knew who I was now. Worse, they knew _what_ I was. And as I watched every gun raise against me, I knew what would happen next. I knew there wasn't a way out. Too many guns. Too many Blues.

This was it.

Steve and I locked eyes over the body between us. "I'm sorry," I tried to say, but it was barely more than a whisper.

"It's the Blue Lady!"

Our heads whipped towards the cry, near deafening to be heard of the commotion. But the words silenced every voice. Every whisper. Feet hesitated. Guns lowered. Finally, my eyes found Eli, shoving his way to the front of the crowd, hands cupped over his mouth.

"Don't you see? It's her! It's the Blue Lady!"

Steve's head swerved back to me, eyes wide with disbelief. "Wh-what?" He choked out.

"Look at her coat! Look at what she did to the Red!" Eli continued to scream. "She's the Blue Lady!"

"Akiridion!" Darci appeared through a line of kids, Luug howling in her arms. "Akiridion!"

Suddenly, something in my mind clicked. As Darci stood and screamed the title I'd been given, as Eli called 'Blue Lady' over and over again, something in me changed.

My head turned towards Logan, up on his feet as he roared over Eli's claims. But more kids were joining in. Voices and the bodies they belonged to, standing beside Eli until it was too loud and too many for even Logan to stop.

_The Blue Lady protects children from all evil._

I slid my feet back under me, rising to my full height while my fury rose to new bounds. Bounds I didn't know existed.

_In whatever form it comes in._

Dozens of kids were surrounding Eli now, chanting and stomping. Their tattered clothes. Filthy faces. Boney and frozen bodies. All band together.

_Sickness. Hunger._

"Are you shitting me?" Logan bellowed. "The Blue Lady doesn't exist! All of you, _shut up!"_

_People._

I stretched out my arm, palm flat out to face Logan. He was far too busy screaming at the kids around him to see me. But everyone else did. Feet shuffled. Guns shifted, not knowing what aim at. If to aim at all.

_All you have to do is call out her true name._

"Akiridion!"

"Uh . . ." Mike reached for Logan's shoulder. "Trollhunter -?"

Logan whipped towards him, fuming. "What!" Mike jutted out a shaking finger, letting Logan's eyes follow it to me.

That was all it took.

One glance, seething with hatred and ire, and the waves of anger within me distilled into a perfect, piercing strike.

Logan's mind burst open like a hot blister, gushing thick, congealed memories. I didn't have time to examine them and I didn't care. I pushed through the screaming words of his parents, the slaps his mother would give him, the buzzed hair and camp uniform, the beatings -

I pushed until Logan dropped to his knees.

All the air was sucked out of the room, the chanting slowly easing as everyone beheld their oh-so invincible leader, quivering on the ground. But their faces were barely a blur in my peripherals, fading in and out of focus since Logan was the only thing in my focus. He and I were the only two people in the world.

"Logan?" Mike tried one more time, white-knuckling his gun. He received no answer.

"Come here," I commanded. "Now."

His feet stuttered beneath him, stumbled and buckling forward. I flexed my fingers, watching him trip in rhythm with them. Like a puppet on a string.

Twisting my wrist, I held my hand so my palm was facing the ceiling. Then I locked my knuckles and jerked my elbow back, ripping Logan the final few feet to where he crumpled back on his knees before me.

"What's going on?" One of the boys shouted, blankly aiming his gun. "Logan, what the hell?"

My fingers wavered back and forth, gently tugging at different strings. And Logan writhed because of it. I jerked my hand up, and his torso followed. I wanted him to look me in the eye. I wanted him to feel just as helpless and afraid as Krel did. As all the kids here did.

"You know who I am," I said, my voice slow and even with rage.

A flash of Krel's face went through Logan's mind, replaced with absolute, naked fear. And he nodded.

"And who are you?"

"L-Logan," He choked, his voice hoarse and strained under my control. "Logan Will-Williams."

"Logan Williams," I replied, "are you the Trollhunter?"

"N-no."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Whispers and shouts, kids edging forward, but Eli held up a hand to stop them.

"So what have you been doing here?" My voice reeled with guile. "How have you been getting supplies? What have you been doing with the kids you think are worthless?"

"I . . ." There were tears in his eyes now, ". . . trade them."

"Trade them to whom?"

"P-PSFs."

The gasps turned to cries. Tears reflected harshly in the firelight. Guns clattered to the ground.

I lowered myself onto one knee, getting my face inches away from his. "You lied," I hissed. "You treated every kid that came to you like they were worthless. You took everything they needed for yourself. You left them to starve, to freeze, to _die._" I flexed my fingers tighter, hearing him whimper under the pressure. "And you made them fight another child you kidnapped and tortured, like that is the only way to survive in this world."

He shuddered, fighting back sobs. "S-sorry."

"Sorry doesn't save the kids you traded. Sorry doesn't erase the brand you gave my brother." Bitter tears spilled over my face. "Sorry doesn't bring Buster back."

He wanted to drop his head. He wanted to look away. To hide. But I didn't let him. I only tightened my control, reminding him whose mercy he was at.

And I stopped holding back.

My hand closed into a fist, Logan let out one last wail, and I dove into his mind like a fish hook. Catching and shredding and destroying everything I could find. Every memory. Every cruel action. Every disgusting thought. I tore it all away, gauging him hollow. Until he wouldn't even recognize his name.

"Leave," I told him. "And never come back."

His feet trembled beneath him, the command the only thing in his blank mind. His legs were stiff and sloppy, but they worked well enough to carry him towards the open wall, passed the shocked, dazed eyes of the kids around us.

I almost thought someone would stop him for a moment. That someone would run after him and rally the others against me. But no one moved. No one spoke. Just dozens of cold, unflinching eyes watching their Trollhunter stumble away.

"She's no Blue Lady!" Mike's shout shattered the delicate silence everyone had fallen into. "She's an Orange!"

The word was repeated over and over again through the crowd, pumping like a heart beat. Guns began shifting, rising then falling then rising again.

"Someone take her out!" A boy shouted. "She'll do that to all of us! Take the shot!"

"No!" Steve and Eli screamed the word in unison.

Steve's arms closed around my waist, bringing my back against his chest and pulling me away from the group. Eli burst forward from the line of kids, sprinting to stand in front of me, my arms locking under his automatically as he held himself against my front. Then Darci was at my side. Luug too, snarling and biting in Mike's direction.

"Maybe she is an Orange," Eli blurted. "But look at what she's done! Because of her, Logan is _gone_. He can't hurt or control any of you anymore."

"Yeah!" Steve shouted. "You buttsnacks should be thanking her!"

"We've been lied to this whole time," Darci stepped forward, her gaunt face colored with firelight and courage. "You all know every word that came out of his mouth was true. We've been tricked and trapped and treated like we can't even make our own choices." She looked back at me. "But not anymore."

I could tell Mike wasn't going to back down. There were several spread throughout the crowd, strangling their guns as they watched. They wouldn't back down. They wouldn't let this end quietly.

But there had been enough violence for one night.

_You all agree_, I whispered to their minds, in a way they wouldn't even realize was me. They would think the revelation was their own. And if it was their own, they wouldn't fight it. _You do and you always will._

I watched them fade into the back, nodding softly to themselves. Their guns lowered or dropped. Their minds calm.

Then everyone was calm. The kind of calm that comes after far too much endurance. The kind exhaustion feeds, when you finally reach your breaking point.

Eli eased himself around, his glasses reflecting the firelight almost as much as my coat. I didn't see the tears trailing down his face until then. And I didn't waste a moment in throwing my arms around him.

The two boys cradled me close, tears and hiccups and sniffles between us as we held each other. Luug came padding over to our feet and jumped up our legs into my arms, licking away the vile mixture of blood and tears from our faces.

"It's okay, we're okay," I gasped, finally feeling like I could catch my breath. I looked back at all the kids still clustered around the wall. "We're all okay."

It didn't matter if they believed me or not. They followed me out anyway.


	19. 19

**Come On Give Me That Title, Title**

**(A/N): shout out to meghan trainor for givin the world that bop**

The first order of business upon getting back to the station was bringing all the kids in from the white tent - starting with Krel. He was oriented enough that when Steve and I lifted him from the pallets, he opened his eyes and said Steve's name.

". . . The hell are you . . ." He gasped, "doing here?"

"Savin' your butt, that's what," Steve replied. "It's good to see you, too."

Krel recognized Eli too, almost laughing a little as he muttered, "Creepslayerz . . . back together again . . ."

We moved all of the kids into the station, surrounding them with as many trash can fires as we dared. The plan was to take Eli's advice and get them warm, dry, and hydrated as soon as possible. But that wasn't easy when everytime I even looked at the fires, all I saw was Buster's face.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut and forcing a dry breath into my lungs. Breathe in, breathe out. Until the horrible image faded into nothing but a dull, bitter pain. Just like when I lost Davaros.

"Hey," Eli lowered himself next to me where I was sitting cross legged on the concrete. I'd only taken a moment, a few seconds to clear my thoughts, before continuing to coax water down the sick kid's throats. That, and passing out whatever food and supplies we could.

I opened my eyes but didn't look up. "Hm."

"I found some ointment for your burns." He held out the bottle. "And Steve won't let me treat the ones on his neck until I treat the ones on your chest so . . ."

"Right," I whispered, my fingers numbly undoing the zipper and revealing the burnt fabric of my hoodie. I could feel the skin stinging relentlessly beneath it, and judging by the blisters bubbling over Steve's neck, I could guess it wasn't going to be pretty.

Heaving the shirt over my head, it revealed an array of angry, red skin and the occasional blister. Eli and I both blew out a sigh of relief. Only second degree burns. That was treatable. Not pleasant, but still treatable.

I gritted my teeth, gripping my knees and squeezing my eyes shut as Eli spread the cream over my sternum. It stung blindingly at first, but then the cool air began to ease the pain, and I felt myself relax.

"You might wanna wash your face off too," He said, wrapping a thin layer of gauze around my torso. "You're pretty . . . scuffed up."

I nodded numbly, trying so very hard not to remember that the majority of the blood on my face was not mine.

"How's your hand?" He asked.

"How's your stomach?"

He gave a shallow sigh. "Hurts."

I flexed my hand. "Hurts."

When I looked back up at him, I noticed how pallid he'd become. The sweat beading on his forehead. How he kept swallowing to keep back the pain.

"You should rest," I said, lifting the cream out of his hands - but he instantly tried to snatch it back.

"I'm fine," He said.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Come on," He sighed. "I wanna be useful. I can rest later."

"You're plenty useful, Eli," I promised. "But you won't be at all if you're incapacitated." I took the ointment with an air of finality. "Go rest."

His face settled into a pout as he rose to his feet again, a little unsteady. "You know," He started. "Krel said this would happen."

I blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"This," He waved a hand between us, and I could see how it trembled with exhaustion. "He said if I hung around you for too long, you'd adopt me as your 'other little brother'."

"Pfff," I scoffed. "That is not true."

Eli lowered his eyebrows.

"What?" I spread my hands. "It's not!"

"Yeah, while you're in denial, there are burns to be treated."

I sighed, shaking my head as he walked passed me. "I'll start with Steve."

He chuckled dryly. "You might want to put on a shirt before you do that."

I somehow found the strength to laugh back.

Slipping the burnt remains of the my hoodie back on, I got to my feet and strode across the space to where Steve was monitoring the kids from the white tent. He'd just set down a cup of water when he turned to face me.

"Did Eli get it for you?"

I nodded, dolloping a bit of cream on my fingers and gently laying it over his skin. He hissed and ducked away from me, but I knelt at his side and held his shoulder with my other hand.

"So," He grunted, somehow still managing to look smug. "You wanna show me some proof he patched you up?"

I tsked my tongue in disappointment. "You just missed it."

"Wait, really?"

I lowered my eyebrows. "Turn around."

With a begrudging roll of his eyes, Steve pivoted on his hips and turned his back to me, letting me lift the singed edge of his hair to see the back of his neck. The burns were no worse than mine, but the shape of them is what made me freeze. They looked like perfect hand prints.

And all I could see was who those hands belonged to.

"Hey," Steve turned back after a moment, finding me with two hands pressed over my mouth. "I was just joking, angel. I wasn't really -"

"No," I shook my head, choking back tears. "No, it's nothing you said. I just . . . I can't stop seeing -" I scrubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes, as if I could scrub away Buster's face.

For the millionth time, I wished more than anything I could erase my own memory.

"I know, angel," He whispered, running a hand over my hair. "Me too."

I lifted my eyes, letting him cradle my jaw and press his forehead to mine.

"Focus on one thing at a time," He finally said. "Finish my neck, and I'll clean you up, okay? Just focus on that."

Breathe in, breathe out. And I nodded.

Steve continued whispering to me as I worked on his neck, _everything's going to be alright_, _just focus on breathing_, _just listen to my voice_, and _angel, angel, angel_. All the while keeping a gentle hand over my knee, tethering me to reality before I could slip away.

"You seem pretty good at this," I commented, finishing wrapping his neck and coming to sit next to him.

"Calming you down?" Steve lifted one of the towels we'd pulled from storage, dipping it in a warm vase of water and wringing it damp. "I guess you can say I've had lots of practice."

I tried not to wince as he ran the rag over a nasty scrape at the corner of my jaw. "You mean Eli?"

Steve's eyes got all the heavier, his hand hesitating over the soot on my nose. "He's been through a lot."

"Yes," I glanced back at him, curled up in the corner with a hot pack against his torso. From traffickers to experiments to being ripped away from any family he could hold onto. I didn't have the power to keep our little group together before. I didn't have the power to keep all of them safe. But I did now. And I silently swore I would. "He has."

Steve wiped the blood from my chin. "You have, too."

I didn't reply.

The majority of the scrapes lined the left side of my jaw, making it a particularly tender spot to scrub. I managed to keep the wincing down though, only grimacing once or twice. The other tender spots were my split lip, my bruised cheekbone, and the cut across the bridge of my nose. But all of those would fade eventually.

The memories on the other hand . . .

A soft cough interrupted us, turning our heads to the kid very end of the line: Krel. He was writhing on his side, coughing and sputtering as he tried to breathe.

"He needs more water," Steve said, handing me a fresh water bottle. "Tell him I'll be back soon."

I hesitated in taking the bottle, catching the quiet encouragement in Steve's eyes. He knew I wanted nothing more than to be at Krel's side, no matter how terrifying it seemed. I wanted to shake my head. I wanted to be strong enough to let go.

But I wasn't.

Taking the bottle, I rose to my feet and crossed the makeshift beds to Krel's. By the time I arrived, he was trying to push himself onto his elbows, his chest heaving from the effort. I could see how thin he was now. How the T-shirt hung off his torso, his boney arms trembling beneath his weight.

Suddenly, all I could think was all the things I could feed him. All the ways I could get him strong again. Who knew I would miss being the scrawny one so much?

"Stop," I said, gently placing my hands between his shoulder blades. "Please - it's alright, just lie back."

His eyes were bloodshot and darting wildly back and forth, his face flushed and bruised. His arms gave out from under him, my own catching around his shoulders and easing him back. When his swollen eyes finally found my face, they didn't look away.

"What's going on?" He gasped, struggling to swallow. "Where . . . what's happening?"

"Shh," I whispered, pressing my hand to his burning forehead. It was just as bad as yesterday, if not worse. "Steve just went to get something. He'll be right back."

"Darci?" Krel shifted his head as he tried to call out, but his voice only came out hoarse. "Eli?"

"They're safe," I promised, brushing the ends of his hair away from his sweat-slicked forehead. "Everyone is safe."

He seemed to relax a little, allowing me to raise the edge of the water bottle to his lips. I had to cradle his head to ensure he didn't choke, trails of liquid falling down the corners of his mouth as he forced himself to swallow over and over.

I pulled the bottle back after he'd downed about a fourth of it, gently lowering his head back onto the pillow and reaching for another fresh towel. I dabbed it along his jaw, wiping away the leftover moisture.

"Who . . ." The words wheezed out of him. "Who - who are you?"

I tipped the edge of the bottle over the rag, wetting it just enough to begin wiping at the grime crusted around his eyes. "I'm nobody."

Krel reached up, his fingers spreading and quivering until they brushed the skin just under my eyes. "You . . . you have . . . my Papa's eyes."

A sheen layer of tears appeared over my vision. I reached up to his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before laying it back over his stomach. "I know."

I wiped the dirt and soot from his face with gentle strokes, watching his eyelids flutter as he fought to keep them open. Eventually, I couldn't help but zero in on his fresh scar. Curved and pink, still in the final stages of healing.

It wasn't identical to mine. Mine puffed out, like a burn. His sunk in, like a cut. And it was crooked on the right side. Darci did say Logan had used an exacto knife.

"Wh-what's . . ." Krel had to pause to cough. "What's your . . . name?"

I was so surprised by his coherency, it took me a few moments to reply. I almost didn't reply at all.

"Aja?" He repeated, his brows cringing together. "That's . . . that's a stupid name . . ."

I burst into snickers, having to take the rag off his face for a minute. "I'll have you know," I finally said. "Aja is the name of a warrior princess."

Krel rolled his bloodshot eyes, his lids almost closing all together. "You . . . you're just making that up . . ."

"Prove it."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his weathered face. It was all he could muster with his strength so drained. The mere sight of it brought fresh tears to my eyes. God, I'd missed him.

But the smile faded as soon as his eyes drifted above mine, catching the mark set there. They were blank for a moment, then darting and wild again, always drifting back to my scar.

"No . . ." His eyes squeezed shut. "No, no, no - I didn't - I couldn't - I lost her . . . I - I lost her and they'll hurt her and it's all . . . it's all my -"

"Hey, hey," I stroked his forehead again, the way Mama used to when we were sick. "It's alright."

_I lost her._ The words repeated in my mind. What was he _talking_ about? Because it couldn't possibly be -

"They'll hurt her . . ." He moaned, throwing his head from side to side. "They'll hurt her . . . But he won't let me . . . He's coming - he's coming - I lost her . . ."

"Shh," I coaxed. "Everything is okay."

But he wouldn't stop shaking his head, desperately trying to make me understand. "Please . . ." He panted, chest heaving. "Please . . . I need to get her back - they'll hurt her - I lost her . . . it's all . . . it's all my fault . . ."

"Krel, look at me," I hooked the edge of my finger under his chin to keep him still. "No one will hurt anyone. We're safe."

His eyes were finally unmoving, but they were filled with tears. Filled with fear. Pure anguish. "They already . . ." He was biting back a sob. "They already hurt -"

"Shh . . ."

It wasn't . . . No, it wasn't possible. His memories of me disappearing in the West Virginia woods were gone. All his memories of me were gone. Just like Mama and Papa's. Just like Davaros'. _Gone._

Then how -?

"Can you stay?" His voice was barely above a whimper, his trembling hand wrapping around my wrist from where it hovered above him. "Please . . . please stay . . ."

_You need to stop this. You need to leave._

I let the towel tumble out of my hand and moved to squeeze his. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But you always go . . ." His head fell to the side, his eyes finally beginning to roll back. "Always, _always_ . . . but I knew - I know . . . you always come back after you . . ."

_You always come back after you run away._

My vision was suddenly full of spots, tears cutting their way through. Blood was rushing in my ears. My heart pounded with terror. It was almost involuntary when I shot to my feet, pinning a hand over my mouth and all but sprinting to the door.

I burst into the freezing night air, gasping for breath as I fell against the wall of the station. I knew what he had tried to say. I had heard him say it before. When I'd run away for the millionth time and instead of being angry, Krel had held me.

But he didn't know that anymore. I had taken it away. I had picked his mind clean of me. He didn't know me anymore. There wasn't - it wasn't _possible_ -

"Aja?"

I lifted my head, releasing the fistfuls of hair I'd been tugging on. Steve, Darci, and the blonde from before. All of them were staring at me with varying levels of concern, the blonde awkwardly picking at her sleeve.

Steve reached from me, but I waved him off, bouncing up from the wall. "I'm okay," I scrubbed under my eyes. "I was - he just . . ." My face fell into my hands, two deep breaths clawing their way inside me.

Not. Possible.

Steve's hand brushed my shoulder. "You sure?"

One more shaky breath and I peeled my face up again, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Yes," I forced myself to say. "It's nothing. What did all of you need?"

"Uh," The blonde raised her hand. "I was just wondering when we'd be leaving for the supplies? You know, assuming it exists?"

"It does," Steve answered for me. "It might not be the wonderland she made it up to be, but there is a warehouse in Harrisburg, maybe ten miles from here. It's full of things we can use."

"Medicine," I whispered.

"We need to get it as soon as possible," Darci nodded to me. "These kids . . . I don't know how much longer they'll last."

How much longer would Krel last? After everything we've been through, would he die here? Like this? Fighting and failing and fading away to a place I couldn't reach him?

"We'll leave as soon as everything is situated here," I said.

"Speaking of which," The blonde rubbed the back of her neck shyly. "There's a bit of a problem with some of Logan's old pals. They're about to bring it inside."

As if on cue, shouting echoed from within the station. A weight of dread and irritation dropped in my stomach. After everything, couldn't we have one night of peace?

"Shit," I muttered, rolling my eyes and swinging back through the door. Here we go again.

Walking in, whatever kids weren't strewn out by the fires were gathered in a crowd towards the place Logan's chair used to sit. Eli was at their center with a battered radio on his lap. Mike and his team were skirted around him, all glaring down in disgust.

_If you can hear this, you're one of us. If you're one of us, you can find us_, the radio crackled. _Heartstone, New Jersey. Look for the signs._

It was still broadcasting?

"There!" Eli shouted at them, shutting off the radio. "You satisfied?"

"How do we even know _that's_ the Trollhunter?" Mike threw back.

"You're right," I stepped forward. "You caught us. One of us somehow snuck all the way to Jersey, set up a broadcasting signal in the now closed off radio stations, and made it back here in time for dinner."

Mike growled as he stalked towards me. "Watch your mouth -"

"Watch your step," I shoved passed him, reaching down to take the radio off Eli's lap. "And leave my friend alone."

"You really think we're going to believe anything you say?" He narrowed his eyes. "A couple of _outsiders?"_

Darci stepped forward. "I'm not an outsider."

Mike looked near ready to explode. "Stay out this, Scott."

"Oh really?" She took another step, coming to stand beside me. "Who's going to make me? Logan?"

The look on Mike's face made it very hard to keep from laughing.

"Look you guys," She turned to face the group before us. "Let's just face reality for a minute. Things were shit here, and all of us know it. I've kept quiet about it 'cause I thought things would get better, but they only got worse - _he_ got worse. If Aja hadn't sent him away . . . I don't know what he would've done next. But I know those kids over there wouldn't have survived it."

There were several beats of silence.

"Did he really trade kids?" A girl towards the front spoke up. She was the girl that had been sitting on Logan's lap when we'd been first brought in. Larissa was it? "Logan said they tried running away and he took care of them."

"He lied," Darci replied, somberly. "He always lied."

"He did what he had to for food," Mike snarled. "We have to make sacrifices if we want to survive. That's what's fair."

A line behind Darci's eyes snapped. _"Fair?"_ She nearly spat at him. "You call that _fair?_ How about we trade you next, huh? How fair is it gonna be then?"

Veins in Mike's neck bulged. "We have to make _sacrifices -"_

"Sacrifices?" Eli cut in from where he was still sitting. "So you'd just keep going, sacrificing all these kids to get what you want? And you just expect them to follow you? Like that's the only way to survive in this world? Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but it's not."

"What do you know?" Mike retorted, stepping towards him but I held out my arm to block him.

"Back," I shoved him away, _"off."_

"You really wanna keep fighting with us?" Darci asked him. "Then go ahead, you and all your goons can make your case. Explain to all of us how _fair_ it is for a sick kid to starve because their too weak to work, and because they can't work, they can never get better. How fair is it, Mike? How?"

He didn't have an answer.

Darci turned back to the crowd. "It doesn't have to be this way. I've been to Trollmarket - the real one. I've spent summers and winters there and everything in between. And I never went hungry, not once. I never felt scared or controlled because we all worked together. I felt . . . taken care of."

"We were there too," Eli said, nodding to Steve. "And we can tell you that the Trollhunter isn't some asshole who turns everything into a pyramid so he can sit at the top. Jim cares about everyone and their needs. He did everything he could to make sure everyone was fed, warm, and taken care of. He's a _real_ leader."

"And you think we can have that here?" The blonde asked from behind me. It wasn't a taunt or a snarl. It was honest.

"I don't see why not," Darci replied. "There's room to grow food, better ways to set up security, and more supplies we can get. We can do this."

The only response was the whispers throughout the crowd. The curious eyes glancing back and forth, but eventually, down. The whispers faded to nothing, and the posture of the whole group seemed to sink. The same kind of exhaustion. Hopelessness.

Doubt.

I could see it in Darci, too. I almost thought it would keep her quiet, but when the strength returned to her posture, I knew she was through with staying quiet.

"If there's anything I learned from Trollmarket - from Jim," She said. "It's that the Trollhunter isn't just one person. The Trollhunter is anyone who isn't ashamed of who they are or what they can do. Who will do whatever it takes to take care of their family. Anyone like that can be the Trollhunter." She turned back to look at me. "Just like anyone can be the Blue Lady."

I returned the soft smile.

"It's not about a title," Darci continued. "It's about what you do to earn it. The Trollhunter isn't just one person. The Blue Lady isn't just one person. And Trollmarket isn't just one place. If we work together, if we respect each other and our colors, we can have our own right here."

"And you get to decide this why?" Mike pressed, two of his buddies coming to flank him. "Who are you to step up here and start making demands? We had a system that worked just fine, and now you want us to go soft? There's a reason we only ran with other Blues - the rest of you are so goddamn pathetic you can't do anything, not even protect yourselves."

"How would you know?" I snapped, stepping up with Darci. "You've been too busy taking advantage of these kids while they were trapped in a system stacked against them. You really want to see if someone not of your color can defend themselves?" I took another step forward. "You really want to know if only _Blues_ can do impossible things?"

Mike swallowed.

I jerked a step forward, opening my arms as though I were about to grab him. Mike threw himself back, crash-landing into the boys behind him. I leaned back, folding my arms and admiring my work with a smirk.

A few snickers rippled through the crowd, all of which were instantly silenced by Mike's hard stare. His face was red from embarrassment, but he jerked himself up anyway, regaining his composure with fury. "You guys are really gonna let her - an _Orange_ \- tell you guys what to do? She's probably doing her mind trick thing on all of us right now!"

"Orange abilities don't work like that," Steve said. _"Psi_ abilities don't work like that. If you had a single shred of respect for anyone outside your own color, you would know that."

"Being soft doesn't mean being weak," I added. "You can stay or you can go. But just remember, if you run, you run alone. And trust me, it's a long, lonely road."

"Aja's right," Darci said. "If you want out, now's the time. Just know that from this day on, you will never stop running, not until they catch you. Never."

"This is stupid!" Mike shouted, stomping his feet. "It's not how it's supposed to work. If you think any of my guys are gonna support this -"

"Then _go,"_ I cut him off, taking another step forward. "You don't like this? Leave. It only works if you want to be here. So take whatever you need and don't come back"

Mike stood a whole head over me. Outweighed me by dozens of pounds. Was armed. Flanked by a team. And none of it mattered. All it took was one look, and he knew I what I could do to him.

But I wouldn't do it. Not now.

Everyone watching would only continue to follow out of fear, and soon they would have enough of it to do something about it. I had to take him down without my abilities. Warmth spread through my chest at the thought, a string of confidence going up my spine. Suddenly, the image of me snapping a skateboard over Seamus's head flashed in my mind.

I, unlike Mike, didn't need my abilities.

Just as he was opening his mouth for another smart comment, Darci came to my side. Then Steve. Then Eli. Then the blonde.

Mike glared daggers into the girl. "You too, huh?"

She held his gaze easily. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Mike looked ready to charge, but before he could, a boy behind him with skin several shades darker than what Logan's was clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"No man, c'mon," He said. "We don't have to stay."

Mike shrugged him off, a heavy breath coming through his nose as he turned back to me. And in that single, solitary second of eye contact, I saw something in him. The thing that made him fall short of being a leader. The thing he had learned from Logan.

He thought it was my power that made me untouchable. He was so sure it was my abilities that had gotten me this far. He didn't see the people standing beside me. The little family I had earned - I had _protected_. And they protected me in return.

He won't last, I thought. Not like that.

He turned swiftly, stomping out with his boys. None of them said a word. None of them acknowledged the kids they stepped through. None of them touched any of the supplies. But it wasn't until Mike cast once last glare over his shoulder that I saw his plan unfold in his mind.

And I held my hand out to stop him.

He froze, his body jerking stiffly as he tried to fight his way out of my grasp. But all the got him was on his knees.

"I don't want to hurt you or your team, Mike," I said. "But if you even _think_ of enacting that plan; of coming back at night, unloading every round in your guns on the kids here, and then taking the supplies we'll be bringing back -"

Gasps erupted behind me. Feet shuffled. Glances turned nervous and terrified. Mike's team were all looking at each other, eyes darting from person to person anxiously as they watched their leader fold in on himself.

"- I will ruin you."

And I let go.

Mike collapsed on all fours, panting and seething as he glared back at me. "Blue-_bitch_," He hissed under his breath.

Darci rested an arm on my shoulder. "You have no idea."

With a harsh slam of the door, he was finally gone.

"So . . ." The blonde broke the silence from over my shoulder, making me turn to face him. "Which are you? The Blue Lady or the Akiridion?"

"Weren't you listening?" I laughed a little, holding out my hand from her to shake. "I'm Aja."


	20. 20

**Grocery Shopping Mama Did Not Prepare Me For**

"No," I said, for the third time now. "You're not coming. You're not."

Luug dropped his ears, looking up at me with his big brown eyes. He let out a soft whine.

_"No,"_ I repeated. Again.

Another whine.

"Luug . . ."

A little yip this time, like someone had stepped on his tail.

My face fell and I glanced back at Eli. "Would it really be so bad -?"

"Aja," He lowered his brows. "It's just a dog. You can tell it no."

I threw out my hands. "But he's so sad!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my God . . ."

"Ugh, fine," I sighed, squatting down beside Luug. "How about a compromise?" I scratched his ears until they perked up again. "You need to stay here with all these kids, remember? You need to keep them safe until we get back."

Luug pushed his head into my chest, bumping against me as he whined in protest.

"What about Krel?" I asked, touching a finger to my scar so he'd understand. "You need to take care of him for me, just like you have this whole time. Can you do that for me? Just one more night?"

He continued bumping me for a moment, but then jumped up to lick my scar and began bouncing on his feet. When he yipped again, it was happily.

"Good boy," I whispered, kissing the top of his furry head. And he bounded off to the row of sick kids, trotting to the end and curling up beside Krel.

Darci came to stand beside me, watching Luug cuddle at Krel's side. "He's such a puppy."

"Huh?"

"You know," She shrugged. "Bouncy. Especially around you."

"Sorry," I said, rising to my feet.

"Why? It's cute."

"I don't mean to steal your dog, is all," I replied.

Darci's brows just drew together. "Luug isn't mine."

"He's not?"

"No," She shook her head. "He was just a stray that wandered out here. And to be honest, he always liked Krel more. Would follow him everywhere - drove him nuts. It was pretty funny to watch."

"Then where did he get the collar?" I asked.

Darci just shrugged again.

"Everything ready?" The blonde came jogging up behind me, her face flushed from all her running around to make sure everything was in order. Half of the available hunters were coming with us, the other half planned on staying in case Mike and his goons didn't heed my warning and came back looking for trouble.

"Yes," I replied. "I'm just waiting for Eli to finish the list."

It was times like these were Eli's photographic memory really came in handy. In all his time at Leda Corp, he saw dozens and dozens of medicines and what they do. Written on walls, on clipboards, in books left open. Once he broke out, he even snagged a medical textbook to memorize as much as he could, just to be prepared.

And thank God for it.

"I'll get the guys outside," He replied. "Meet us there?"

I gave him a single nod and strode back over to where Eli was still laying against the wall. Steve had gotten him a few more hot packs but I could tell it wasn't helping much. As badly as he wanted to help, he was far too battered to come along. Besides, the list was more than enough help.

"Finished?" I asked, kneeling down before him.

"Just about," He replied, his hands clammy around the pen. "See if you can find any oxycodone while you're at it."

Steve gently patted his shoulder. "We'll get enough to share."

"Ha, ha."

I glanced at the list, running my eyes down the names: _Amoxicillin (Amoxil), Ampicillin (Rimacillin), Benzylpenicillin (Crystapen),_ and so on.

I went to reach for it, but Eli grabbed my wrist before I could stand again. "Aja, you need to know," The staccato breaths were starting again, "these will only do any good if the illness is bacterial. If it's viral . . . I don't think there's anything we can do, not at this point."

Suddenly, the only thing I could hear was Krel's coughs behind me, wet and ripping as he struggled just to suck in again.

He's going to die here, my mind whispered to me. He's going to die and it's your fault.

"Hey," Steve laid a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay. We'll get him better again."

I could only look at him for so long before I pulled away, gripping the list until it crumpled.

The blonde had introduced herself as Sam - short for Samantha. It didn't fit her as well as my nickname did, but I suppose it was as good a name as any. She and all the others going out with us were anxious to get going by the time Darci, Steve, and I stepped out, bouncing on the balls of their feet and glancing around conspicuously.

Even despite the fact it was nearly one in the morning, all of us were alert. Ready. It's not just anger that makes you sharp, iron will can do the same thing. So off we went.

Steve knew the way back to Harrisburg better than any of us so he naturally lead the way. The marshlands weren't any easier to trek over in the night than they were in the day, but at least each of us had flashlights - and my coat, shining as proudly as ever.

But nothing could protect us from the mud.

It had soaked everyone shoes and calves within just an hour of walking. But somehow, it didn't dampen our energy. It didn't lessen how alert we were by a stitch. We knew what we had to do to save those kids, and we would do it. Mud, sleet, or snow.

"You don't think we'll run into Jim out here, do you?" Steve asked me as we walked.

"It would be awfully convenient," I replied, glancing back at Darci. "Especially for Toby."

"We'll hit them eventually," He said. "That's just common sense. They won't leave the river until they find us, and with everyone walking everywhere, it'll only be a matter of time."

"Then let's hope it's sooner rather than later."

I counted the minutes on my Chatter was walked. One hour. Two. Three. My fingers were frozen stiff by the time we made it to the river's edge, not even putting them under my arms brought feeling back.

"Welcome to Cumberland River," Sam muttered, her breath fogging out before the view.

It had to be at least sixty feet across, the water high and rushing with loud rapids. I could see bits of broken and rotted furniture caught between the rocks lining it's edge. Leftover remains of cars. Signs. Even a stroller.

"Nice to see Morando and his boys got around to cleaning this mess up like he said they would."

"That's politics for you," I replied. "So what do we do now?"

"Now?" Sam and Darci exchanged a smug look. "We're gonna play leapfrog."

Turns out, "playing leapfrog" with a bunch of Blues meant lifting and dropping each other from floating object to floating object. The river was too wide for any one Blue to shoot someone all the way over to the other side. Instead, we were taking advantage of the wreckage, going along it like it was hopscotch.

It was the most fun I'd had all day.

Darci went first, lifting Sam and setting him on an upturned barge. In turn, she lifted Darci and set her on the roof of what looked like a mobile home. Then another Blue would join in and push them all farther.

I was the last one to join in, since I couldn't lift anyone behind me. Steve went just before me, positioning himself strategically so he would be the only one lifting me. It was better that way. Most of the Blues here were too nervous to come within three feet of me, let alone lift me over a rushing river.

Finally, Steve pulled me over the last bit of water and into his arms. I came down giggling, hugging Steve around his neck.

"What?"

"Nothing," I shrugged. "I just like being lifted."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Do you?"

Suddenly, I shot back into the air, like I'd been bounced. It was barely over a foot of height, but I still landed in Steve's arms shrieking with laughter. Suddenly, I could feel my fingers again.

"Ugh," I heard Darci mutter behind me. "Now I know what Eli was talking about."

We cut up the path through a thicket of trees, leading up to lone warehouse on the very outskirts of the town, the city's lights barely visible in the distance. The unit itself opened like a hanger, two massive doors sliding open and shut.

I expected to see some kind of lock on them, but everything else was completely barren. No chains or fences. No alarm. Not even cameras. Just the stamp of the National Guard over the doors.

It took Sam, Darci, and Steve all working together to pull the giant doors open, emitting a loud screeching noise as the metal ground against itself.

"How did you get this open before?" Darci grunted.

"I had Claire and Tobes with me before," Steve replied. "We left it open though, someone must've come to close it."

"So we've got a time limit," Sam panted. "I can work with that."

I turned back around to scope out the view, trying to see how anyone could sneak up on us. But all that caught my attention was the bit of land at the side of the warehouse. It was covered with marsh and debris, like everything else. But something about it seemed off. It was too flat. Too long.

"Hey," I called back to the waiting group of Blues. "Can one of you lend me a flashlight?"

It took a moment, but eventually a brave soul tossed me the contraption and I switched it on, shining the beam down the space.

"Steve?"

"What?" He called over his shoulder, the sound of screeching metal halting as they released their hold on the door.

I squinted at the land, seeing bits of pavement show through the mud. "What did you say this place was again?"

"I don't know, just a warehouse." I felt him come up behind me. "Why? What are you looking at?"

I pointed the beam, finally catching the pattern from underneath the sleet. I looked back at him. "That's a runway, Steve."

"Like _Project Runway?"_ Darci asked.

"No," I replied. "Like a jet runway. I think this place was an airport."

"An _airport?"_ Steve parroted. "Why would an airport hoard supplies?"

"What's it matter?" Sam threw up her hands. "We're in. Let's go."

"Right," I nodded, feeling Eli's list still jammed in my pocket. "Anybody could be coming - including the National Guard. We'll need to make this quick."

The inside of the warehouse was lined with shelves, all stocked with bins and boxes. The majority of them were unmarked and empty, already picked off by other scavangers. So we rounded each shelf, knocking bins onto the floor to check if they were empty or not. As many hollow bins that were hitting the floor, there was still a gold mine left behind. It was almost like grocery shopping.

Dozens of water bottles spilled out to our feet. Blankets. Hot packs. Matches. Ointments and soaps. Supplies that was beyond priceless.

Darci and I were the first to head into the very back, venturing into a department covered with tarps. But when we pulled them back, we found a line of very large, wooden boxes. More like crates. It took both of us to tip the first one, and once we did, plastic packages splattered over the concrete. On the front, each of them read: HUMANITARIAN DAILY RATION.

"Hey, Aja," Darci stooped down, snatching one of the packages up to show me. "What language is this?"

What I assume was the same phrase was written across the front, but with characters instead of letters. "Chinese, maybe?" I shrugged. "We'll have to take it back to Eli, he'll know."

Just as she was about to shove it in our makeshift bags made from the cut fabric of the tents, I grabbed it back from her. There, in the top corner, that was a symbol I did recognize. A red cross. It was on every single package in the crates. Along with lines in other languages. French, Spanish, something that could've been Turkish, and English at the bottom.

"'This bag contains one day's complete food requirement for one person'," I read aloud.

"'Food gift from the people of China'," Darci finished from over my shoulder. "But I thought trade commissions were shut down after Psi?"

"They were," I said, my brows pinching together as I studied the package.

I remember learning about it in the League, having Zadra tell me people were concerned IAAN was somehow contagious and shut down all trading routes to the US. And once the economy was gone, the American Red Cross ran out of funding and, consequently, out of time.

"This one's from the UK," Steve announced, Sam holding open the lid of the crate for him as he peeked in. "There's . . . there's so much stuff. Soup, bread, chocolate - is that _tea?"_

"Ooh!" Darci perked up. "I've got a joke!"

"I love jokes!" I bounced at her side. "Tell me!"

"Okay, okay," She spread her hands. "How come Brittish people don't put a star on top of their Christmas trees?"

I was already holding back giggles. "Why?"

"Because where the frick would you put the tea bag?"

I doubled over with laughter, wheezing as I shoved the packages into my own bag.

"Oh, I've got one!" Steve said, him and Sam dumping out the second crate. "How do Brittish people shower?"

I leaned towards him. "How?"

"Same as you," He said. "They get all wet, and then they get the tea bags . . ."

The giggles were echoing along the walls now, more kids joining in as they gathered near the crates. My hands seemed to move in slow motion as I laughed, Darci even laying flat on her back and holding her stomach. It felt good to laugh. After everything that had happened, it felt right.

"Hey look!" A boy with a greasy ponytail managed to knock over another crate. "This one's _Russian!"_

"Is that German?" Another Blue asked.

"France and Italy, too. They all say daily rations!"

"Why do the French only use one egg in their omelettes?" I asked.

Darci sat up. "Why?"

"Because in France, one egg is _un oeuf."_

Steve tilted his head. "I don't get it."

Meanwhile, Sam was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes.

Greasy ponytail kid leaned over with a grin. "What do the French call a really bad Thursday?"

"What?"

"A _trajeudi."_

I pitched forward on my knees as I snickered, while Steve just continued to stare.

"I . . . still don't get it."

"Wait, wait," Darci gripped the lid of a crate to hoist herself up. "If all the trade commissions are closed, how did all this stuff get here?"

The laughter slowly faded out, all of us staring at the literal mounds of food spread at our feet. Morando had spoken over and over again about how there was no available foriegn aid. Psi had cut us off from the rest of the world and we were on our own. But . . . this proved that wasn't true. This proved the UN had wanted to help.

That's when it clicked.

"Because Morando was the one to close off trade."

Steve looked at me. "Why would he do that?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Wealth thrives in trade. And if stabilizing the economy is all the guy can talk about, wouldn't help from the rest of the world be a good thing?"

"Not if you don't want the UN regulating what you're doing," I replied. "You know, like rehabilitation camps, human experiments . . ."

I didn't need to finish.

The warehouse became heavy with silence, the realization hitting harder than any of us thought it would. It was like Morando had set up a perfect cage for us. A place with dwindling resources, a bankrupt economy, and hundreds upon thousands of soldiers trained to end our lives; and on top of it all, now it was isolated. Completely cut off from the world. Hidden just well enough for Morando and all his monsters to keep their iron grip on our lives.

_This place is a steel trap._

"Let's just get what we need and go," Sam finally said. Nobody opposed.

The others stayed with the crates to gather the remainder of the food, but I strode back along the shelves, looking for anything that could count as medicine. I found several plastic bins with the 'RX' pharmacy sign on it, but they had all been cleared out.

It was the golden wink of a Leda Corp insignia that drew my attention to the very back of the warehouse, just along the back wall. I darted towards it, recognizing the golden swan printed on the side of the bin. Anything Leda Corp meant medicine, my experience riding in the back of cargo planes taught me that much. And that was all the more we needed.

I jumped onto the balls of my feet, listening to a chorus of anxious whispers behind me as my hands swiped for the bin. Did they really need to put it on the highest shelf?

"Come on, come on," I hissed under my breath, the muscle between my shoulder blades aching from the effort.

Finally, my hand caught the corner of the box and it spun off the shelf. It burst open onto the floor, clear vials, sterile needles, and a box labeled: VACCINES scattering over the floor. I dug through them frantically, my free hand shaking as it spread out Eli's list.

At first there was nothing. Just rolled up bits of gauze, cotton pads, rubbing alcohol, suture kits - but no medicine bottles. My hands became frantic, turning the bin upside down to shake every last item from its contents.

Finally, several bottles tumbled across the cement, my eyes catching one of the names Eli had written down printed on the side. Then another. And another. And -

"A little help over here!" I called over my shoulder. The bag I was carrying was nearly full, but we needed more. Krel needed more.

Footsteps started falling fast and heavy behind me. I whipped around in time to see someone rush past the isle, muttering something I didn't catch. I leaned over to see what they were running towards when -

"Aja!"

The warning came a split second too late.

Blinding white pain erupted across the back of my skull, spots flashing in my vision as I crumpled to the ground. A hand fisted around the knot I'd tied my hair into and yanked me back up to my feet. I felt my serrator be wrenched from the waistband of my pants before I could even orient myself enough to reach for it.

As ragged and uneven as it was, I still recognized Mike's breath against my ear.

"Miss me?" He growled.

Before I could even get a word out a flash of silver caught my eye a moment before a firework of pain went off at my side, just above my right hip. My scream echoed loudly off the walls, followed by dozens of others. Mike twisted the knife anyway.

"Thanks for finding this place for us," He slammed me forward agasint the shelf, the tip of my serrator coming to rest under my chin. "You and the others can get your sweet fill until the PSFs get here, yeah?"

_No no no nonono_, my mind was screaming, too much pain shooting out from my side to think of anything else. Until I finally grasped to his words enough to remember Logan's deal with PSFs. Kids for supplies.

My blood ran cold.

This wasn't a pick up. It was a trap. I lead each of these kids, straight into a trap.

"Get off her!"

Mike weight was so suddenly thrown off me that I slammed even harder into the bins, the knife pulling free with a sick, sucking sound. My knees buckled from under me, but I hit Darci's shoulder instead of the floor.

My side and hands were slick with blood, the pain drowning out everything else. I saw shelves tip over, tubs and bins crashing open, but heard no sound. I saw Darci's mouth move. I felt the ground beneath me as she forced me to walk. Then I was lying back with warm arms wrapped around me, and slowly, the sounds came back.

"- your choice," Mike's voice barked. "You chose strangers over Logan! Over _me!_ You wanna take everything from us and kick us out? We found that damn station! We set everything up!"

"So if you can't have it -" That . . . that was Sam's voice, wasn't it? "- no one can? Is that how it is? You hate your life, so have to make everyone just as miserable and hungry and pathetic -"

"I am _not_ pathetic - and neither was he! Not until she messed him up!"

I lifted my head from where it hung, Darci and Steve holding me up by either arm. Before us, I saw blurred versions of Mike and his gang. Shaking my head to clear it, I made out one more face: Logan's.

He was standing off the corner, shoulders hunched, eyes wide and unfocused, mouth hanging open, rocking back and forth on his feet. He was muttering something.

"Leave, leave, leave, leave . . ."

A flood of fresh nausea swept over me at the sight.

"Look at him - _look!_ You want her to do this to you? You want another performance of her freak show?"

"Believe me . . ." Blood frothed over my lips as I zeroed in on him. "If you don't put those bags down and get the hell out of here, you'll be next."

Mike raised my serrator, but I could tell he had no idea how to fire it. Steve and Darci shoved me behind them anyway.

"Time to go," A boy near the front shouted. "They're pulling up!"

'No', I tried to say, but my throat was too tight to even breathe. If they were here, then it was already too late.

"Don't -!" Sam warned, but Mike grabbed Logan anyway and lead the rest of his team out the hangar doors. They vanished into the darkness, replaced by blinding floodlights - no, not floodlights. Headlights. Of trucks.

_Oh no._

Our own group scattered to hide behind the shelves, Darci and Steve near dragging me to safety.

"I count thirty of them," One of the Blues said.

_I don't even know your name_, I thought. _And you followed me here anyway. You're going to die here and it's my fault._

I felt the overwhelming urge to vomit.

"This'll be cake," Sam said, but I could see her hands shaking. "They got guns but we got brains. I like those odds."

"One big push should do it," Darci said. "At least buy us some time -"

"Not enough time," I managed to choke the words out, forcing myself to see clearly. "I can stay behind, I can lead them away -"

"Aja, no," Steve had my arm in a vice grip. "You're not staying here, you know what they'll do to you."

"But I also know it's the only way any of you are getting out of here alive," I panted back. "We don't have a choice."

"Blue Lady - Akiridion - Aja, whatever it is," Sam came to stand in front of me. "You can't even _walk_, and you expect us to let you take on all those guys alone?"

I looked her dead in the eye. "Yes."

Sam's face softened.

"You know I have to do this," I said. "You know it's the only way."

"No," Steve just kept shaking his head, turning me to face him. "I'm not leaving you here."

"You have to," I pleaded, sweat beading on my forehead. "You have to go after Mike and get the medicine back. Krel will die without it. Please, Steve, I can't lose my little brother."

"And I can't lose you," He gripped my arms tighter, shaking me ever so slightly. "Not again, angel."

"I'll be fine," I promised, running a hand down his face. "I always come back after I run away, remember?"

Heavy boots were slamming against the concrete. Guns were cocking. Deep, adult voices were shouting and barking. We were running out of time.

When Steve kissed me, I only tasted blood. "If I don't see you again in one hour," He said. "I'm coming back for you, PSFs or not."

"Deal."

Then all the Blues were up and running towards the door, positioning themselves into a line. Darci and Steve had left me propped against the shelf, letting me cling to it as I tried to find my footing.

It's only your side, I reminded myself. You can walk. You can breathe. You can do this.

A burst of static cut through my ears, my hands instinctively closing over them thinking it was White Noise. But then I saw the glint of the megaphone.

"You are to come with us," A man's voice announced, "on the authority of Sergeant Costas. If you do not cooperate, we will respond with force."

"Yeah?" Sam called. "You can tell Sergeant Costas that, on our authority, he can go screw himself!"

That was the cue. Every single Blue stepped forward and threw out their arms, sending every soldier crowded at the front of the hanger back into the snow. Even those who recognized what they were doing were two slow, the Blues just continually shoving them back, further and further until there was enough time for them to run.

The _pop-pop-pop_ of an automatic weapon followed the cluster of kids as they sprinted away, soldiers scrambling to get after them. But they wouldn't.

It was my turn now.

One hand still on the shelf, I whipped around it and threw out my free hand. My eyes went directly to the leader- the "Sergeant" - as I waved my hand for his attention. The second he looked at me, I had him.

"They went the other way . . ." I said, my breath raggedy.

"They went the other way!" The man called, shouldering his gun in the opposite direction.

"It's a trick . . ."

"It's a trick!"

"Sir, what are you talking -"

"There's another one!"

My eyes darted from him to the officers coming near me, entering their minds as well as I convinced them the cluster of Blues had run in the opposite direction. That they could still catch up to them if they hurried.

But there were too many. Too many minds, and too many memories. I was shuddering under the weight of it. Everytime I switched to a new head a cleave seemed to go down the center of mine. And they kept coming, no matter how many times I turned them back, until -

The soldier tackled me around the middle, my throbbing head smacking against the concrete. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to stay conscious. I had to finish this, or they would finish me.

The officer grabbed my wrists, tugging them out to handcuff me but I wrenched them back, bring his eyes to mine. "Get me out of here," I choked, blood filling my mouth all over again.

The man didn't waste a second with hesitation. He dug his hands under my arms and threw my over his shoulder, my side shredding with agony. I bit down on my tongue to keep from screaming as the officer began running, out of the hangar and towards the woods across from the river.

Every step was like being stabbed all over again.

Shouts followed us, curses and gunshots. He had reached the crest of the tree line before a bullet stuck him in the right shoulder blade, barely missing my head. He let out a guttural cry, dropping to his knees and nearly crashing on top of me. I rolled away from him, the icy snow cool against the pain, but when I lifted my head and saw them coming, I knew I couldn't let the sensation last.

Tearing myself to my feet, pure adrenaline shot through my blood and everything went blindingly numb. White and blurred and desperate. All I could hear was my heartbeat. All I could feel was the scratch of tree branches whipping against my face.

The air burned in my lungs, my mouth raw as it gasped it in. My pulse was throbbing against my neck, shaking my whole body with it. But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

_You will never stop running, not until they catch you._

Something hard slammed into the base of my foot, launching me forward to the edge of an incline I didn't know I was on. My body tumbled forward, rolling and skipping across the grass until the vertigo of it all knocked the breath from my lungs. I know it should've hurt, but I couldn't feel anything anymore.

The last thing I saw was snow coming towards my face, then blood dying it red.


	21. 21

**A Paycheck's A Paycheck**

**(A/N): are yer reADY KIDS**

When I woke up, I was warm. Numb.

Everything was still. The low sound of slow feet and soft whispers. Hard shouts cut through eventually, pinching at my ears and making my head blast with pain.

That's when I realized I was only warm because my skin was burning from the cold.

"She's shaking," I heard someone say. "I'll get her a blanket." A pair of faded, yellow Nikes walked passed my head.

"Is she sick? She's so pale!" A woman this time, she sounded close to tears. "God, she can't be any older than sixteen."

_I'm not_, I wanted to say.

"Look at her, Theodore. You're really going to give her to that man?"

Man?

_"I'm_ the one that found her," I heard the cock of a gun. "Go back to your own damn tent, Gwendolyn."

"I flagged him down off the highway," Another voice burst in, very out of breath. "We got him just in time."

In time for what?

"Is she waking up?" The woman again. Fingers began prodding at my shoulder. "Oh my God, Theo, she's bleeding!"

"I said go back to your tent!"

"Here he is!" Another woman, but this one was near shrieking with excitement. "Here he is! I found him!"

I heard the squish of boots coming through mud and found the strength to lift my head. I was inside a tent, but also not inside a tent. It had no front, no door to open or close. Like a box tipped on its end. Like the arena Logan had forced Steve and I to fight in.

I was lying across from a fire on a makeshift bed of filthy sheets and a mattress worn yellow. It smelled like grease and smoke. And if I turned my head enough, I could make out dozens of other tents spread out across the marsh. On the side of the tent closest to my view, I made out the print: PROPERTY OF THE U.S. ARMY.

Oh no.

"And _my_ money?" Theo was saying. "I wanna know how I'm getting reimbursed by Morando, 'cause he sure as shit didn't do anything when the river took everything I owned!"

The boots continued towards me, and I saw blurs of hands and knees crawling away from me. It took so much effort, just to put my hands under my torso to push myself up - never mind the actual pushing. Every vein in my body felt like it had been filled with ice, stiff and stinging and raw.

It took nearly all of my strength to twist my neck, fresh nausea bubbling up as I tried to swallow it down. I didn't know where I was - where I'd been taken. I thought back to Steve's words of coming to find me and wondered how much time had passed.

But the second I saw his face, none of it mattered.

Zeron lowered himself onto one knee before me. "Hello, there," He purred. _"Princess."_

"No," I choke out, the word starting small. But the more it came out, the more it ripped apart my insides. "No, no, _no! NO!"_

The force of my scream shook my sternum, my limbs twitching and flailing beneath me. I had to get up. I had to get away. I had to -

"You! Hold her down!"

Rough, unforgiving hands crashed onto my back, pressing me into the soiled blankets beneath me. I writhed against it, swerving my head to search for the faces around me. Any shred of sympathy I could grasp.

"No!" I sobbed, my whole body shaking. "No, please - please somebody _help me!"_

But they all just scooted farther away.

"Do not touch her without gloves! She needs proper restraints."

_"No!"_

My hands were drawn back and pinned there, the cold touch of metal cutting across the raw skin. I heard the rattle of chains, felt a hand grabbing at what was left of the bun in my hair to lift my head. I had a split second view of the muzzle before it was forced onto my face.

_"Please!"_ I jerked my head back, desperately twisting away from the contraption. The tears raking down my face felt like fire. "Please, no, _help me -!"_

The metal bit was forced into my mouth, scraping between my teeth as it jammed my jaw open. The leather cut roughly against my cheeks, pinching the skin under my chin. I sobbed and shrieked through it, and Zeron just wound it tighter.

"Here," He tossed an orange phone at the 'Theo' man. "Type in your name and social security number - the reward is split sixty-forty."

"S-sixty-forty!" The man sputtered. "That's - that's six figures, right?"

"Don't forget!" Someone called. "I let you borrow my gun for this! And you owe me for last weeks rations!"

Another ragged scream seeped through the muzzle, my vision darting back to the woman. The one who had been hanging over me. She was much larger than I expected, purple streaks in her hair. I begged her with my eyes - with everything I had left.

_Please, please, please . . ._

She looked like I was crushing her. "Theo," She said. "She's only a child."

Theo's smile was as cruel as it was cold. "A paycheck's a paycheck, Gweny."

_No . . ._

Zeron tried dragging me out by the chain that connected the cuffs to the muzzle, but all my squirming slowed him down. Instead, he dug his fingers into the sides of my frame and lugged me up under his arm, letting my feet drag through the mud behind us.

I shrieked and writhed, banging my head against his bicep and kicking at the ground. He only laughed. And everyone else only watched. With curiosity. Pity. Fear. Apathy. It didn't matter, because in the end, they all looked away.

"The world doesn't always treat me well," Zeron hissed over my ear. "But the look on your face when you recognized me? That is something I will treasure on my deathbed."

An old, pick up truck - Zadra's truck - appeared through the mud, the side door leading to the back seat already open. Just for me.

"I knew if I watched the troll network, you'd appear eventually. Good thing you had that pretty coat on, huh? Otherwise, you would've frozen to death in those woods. And where's the fun in that?"

I screamed against the metal bit, bucking away from the seat as he shoved me in. A shackle closed around my ankle, tethering me to the interior of the car. The wound at my side broke open, hot liquid seeping into the waistband of my jeans and down my legs.

"I just couldn't wait to see you," Zeron chuckled. "I couldn't wait to ask you why your beloved babysitters sent you out on this Op - what they have to do with it. It took me a while, but I finally figured you'd gone after that brat of a brother you have."

I kicked uselessly at him with my free leg.

"You and I, Princess?" He said. "We are going to have so much fun on our way to Morando, watching him put you back in a cage where you belong, I won't even ask for the reward."

One last scream ripped out of me, with enough force to arch my spine. The car rocked as Zeron slid into the driver's seat.

"You want to know why I killed those kids so badly?" He asked, adjusting the rear view mirror so I could see his eyes. His horrible, blond eyes. "They weren't worth the air they breathed - they were barely worth the bullet. All of you are that way, but you're the ones with the power in the League now. You get to over run us, decide the Ops, turn the senior staff into a row of cooing bitches. But you don't understand, none of you do. You don't see what the world has to be for us to survive it. Even these empty-headed trolls, they don't realize you're worth more dead than alive."

The Jeep shuddered to life, gaining in speed on the bumpy roads. I was jostled back and forth, my restraints making it impossible for me to hold myself still, even if I wanted to. I couldn't even get my hands out from under me.

We hadn't spent thirty seconds on the road when Zeron stabbed his finger into the radio, blasting Saetia as loud as the stereo would go. He shouted back that he was tired of all my sniffling and sobbing. What a coincidence, I was pretty damn tired of "One Dying Wish" playing on loop.

I could feel the numbness fading away, baring me mercilessly to the pain. Every part of me was an exposed nerve, exhausted and raw. My side was stinging to the point where I could barely manage to suck in, the muzzle already making that difficult enough.

I did whatever I could to get it off my face, to get the bit out of my mouth. But all that did was flood my head and neck with nausea. The cuffs were shredding the skin of my wrists. The straps of the muzzle were cutting lines across my cheeks so deep, I could feel them seep with blood. And all I could do was slam my free foot against the window of the truck, desperately riding out on adrenaline.

If I let myself fall from it, I wouldn't be able to stay conscious. And if I went under again, I would never be coming back up.

The song finally - _finally_ faded out.

_"Preparations for the Unity Summit are ongoing,"_ came President Morando's eerily calm voice. _"I look forward to sitting with these men, many of whom I greatly respect, and -"_

"It's funny, isn't it?" Zeron said, punching the radio off. "The president is suddenly more revolutionary than the senior staff? He wants something _new?"_

Yes, I thought. Hilarious.

"It took them forever to see what a mistake it was to bring you in, and they still ordered you brats out to do jobs any of us can do. He'll have his past, but he won't have _my_ future."

I craned my neck back for what seemed like the millionth time, trying to find something sharp. Something that I could use to think like Eli and get free.

God, please let Eli be okay. Let all of them be okay.

"There's no place for you," Zeron hissed. "Here or anywhere. The only place for you is a cage or buried with the rest of them. Do you hear me?" He was shouting now. "I don't need an excuse for what I did! I joined to get back on my feet, not play house with a staff who's too cowardly to even go above ground. They think we joined up because of you? They want to know why we can't respect you? But they won't let us use you for the one thing you're good for."

_Like what?_ I wanted to ask. _Dying for people like you?_

"I did what I had to and I'll do it again. I'll do it to every last one you rats, starting with you Tarrons and anyone you stand with. Don't you think for one second I'm just bluffing, after all, at the end of the day," He winked at me in the rear view mirror, "it's just another client."

I reeled with disgust, solid fury pumping through my blood. But I had to keep calm. I had to hold back. He didn't know yet. He didn't know the power I had now.

I had to be patient.

"What do you think Krel would make of the electric fence at your old home, Princess? You think they'd put him in the dog cages too? And Cryptid, well, he's just an easy target, isn't he?"

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to relax. I was the predator in this situation. Zeron could chain every part of me, but he could never touch my mind. Meanwhile, I could tear through his. I could show him what I terrible mistake it was to come near me. To threaten the people I cared about and think he could get away with it.

"Oh, and don't worry, your parents will have quite the welcoming committee coming to take care of them. Maybe put them to use with their own research? They could be scalpel partners."

The invisible hands unfurled so peacefully in my mind, wafting up like steam as they climbed over the seats, seeping into his mind the way a knife seeps through flesh. And he didn't even feel it.

"That's all any you mutts are good for anyway."

I pushed all his memories back, not bothering as they exploded in my face like hot tar. I didn't need them to remember what that boy and girl had looked like. I pushed the image in myself, real and crisp. Right in the seat next to him.

"What - what the -?"

The girl he'd shot that night was sitting in the passenger seat next to him, staring at him just as she had before she died. Her face crumpled in a desperate sob. Her lips still mouthing one last _please._

I made him relive it. Made him watch her forehead crack down the middle as the bullet tore through it. Watched the blood splatter over him and the windshield. And the illusion was so perfect, so deliciously lucid, that the car swerved as he tried to get away from her. I heard the windshield wipers turn on.

I made her reach for him, letting her cold fingers brush against the skin of his arm. And I made him feel it.

"Stop it!" He cried, the car swerving yet again as he tried to escape. But he could never escape me. "I know it's you! I know what you're doing! Stop it!"

I suddenly remembered when I'd shouted those same words at him. When he'd pinned me down so helplessly beneath him to torture me. I played my own screams from that night in his head, making sure they grated on his ears like nothing he'd ever felt.

_"Stop!"_ The car jerked again, to the left, to the right, and back again. "You disgusting _bitch!"_

A thrill ran through me when I heard his ragged gasp, the scream he was barely keeping at bay. But he deserved more. I'd seen his face that night, when he'd killed those children. Nothing but a smirk, lit by a hunger I didn't understand until now.

_More._

Then I changed the girl, picking through his memories one by one to pull up all the kids he had hurt. All the ones he had tortured and tormented. And I placed them all around him, climbing over the seats and onto his shoulders, hugging and smearing him with their blood. The blood he spilt.

I wanted him to feel it run hot and heavy, thick and scented. I wanted him to breathe it in. To have all the horrors he'd committed shoved down his throat. I wanted him to feel the way the blood would never wash away. No amount of scrubbing could undo what he'd done. He was the one who should be chained like an animal. He _was_ an animal.

The bullet shattered through the passenger window. Zeron had his arm extended out, emptying his gun into the illusions beside him, as they changed from child to child. From client to client. But with every shot, I only brought them closer.

Then, I hit something different. A flicker of memory in his filing cabinet that looked familiar. That I'd seen before. Two children, a boy and a girl. Soft faces. Loud laughs. Chaotic dinners. Ponytail ties and racecars.

Varvatos's children.

I watched as Zeron tore them apart, leaving nothing but a blood show for the police to find. For Varvatos to come home to. But they weren't even his intended targets. They were just collateral damage. Just another client.

_A paycheck's a paycheck._

I saw red.

My fingers curled beneath me until my nails cut into the skin. I dragged their faces from his memory and shoved them down his throat. _More, more, more_ was all I could think and I didn't want to stop. I made him watch them huddle together and cry. How they had begged for their dead Mommy and their missing Daddy. How they had begged for Jesus to save them. He hadn't cared then, so I let them crawl over him now, drawing little swirls in the imaginary blood and grime on his face.

_More._

"Stop - _stop,"_ Zeron broke into sobs, sounding like a child himself. "Please, God, please -"

I could smell his terror, feel it come off him in waves. I finally understood why Varvatos had betrayed us. Why he'd been so hungry for revenge. I felt that same ravenous feeling eating away inside me, and now? It made me feel powerful. More than powerful. More than anything I'd ever felt. _More, more, more._

"You are - you are a monster," He choked out. "You will ruin everything - _everything! Damn you!"_

My fingers flexed one last time, reaching in to take the strings of his mind. I pulled back and forth at first, just letting him feel my control. Letting myself feel his fear - savor it. His hand trembled around the gun, but I forced him to grip it till his knuckles went white. His arm bent on my command, the barrel digging under his chin. I made him wait for a moment, to let what was about to happen sink in.

_No_, I whispered to his mind. _I'm just going to ruin you_.

The gun went off.

There was a sick squelching sound that followed the bang, hot liquid splattering across my torso and up my right shoulder. The car swerved violently and it didn't stop, like someone had taken the truck and was jostling it back and forth. My back thudded up and down on the seats, my head exploding with pain. But it was next to nothing compared to the agony at my side.

The car was spinning - _I_ was spinning. Until I wasn't anymore and everything ended with a final _crunch._

Everything was so very still. So very silent.

My eyes followed the blood trail, from me, to the floor, to the seat, to what was left of Zeron, slumped over the blood soaked window. That blood wasn't fake. It wasn't an illusion.

It was real.

_Oh my God._

I started slamming my foot against the window again, the blood over my clothes scorching against my skin. The realization was coming in waves, the panic, the sheer adrenaline that made everything feel fuzzy and unreal. But it was real now.

_What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?_

I pounded the glass until the ache shot all the way up my leg. I didn't care. I needed to get out of this car. I had to get away from this - from him. From the invisible hands reaching up to choke me, suffocate every last bit of life out of me. I couldn't breathe - I couldn't breathe -

_You were given these abilities for a reason._

Seamus's voice was rattling inside my had, making me see spots. I slammed the back of my head against the seat, trying to drown him out. But I was never good at blocking him out.

_It's our right to use them._

A sob burst through the muzzle. The leather had long since sliced through my skin, sticky, stinging blood smearing in with my tears. I had to get out. I had to get out.

_To keep the others in their place._

Cracks and pops sounded from my knee and ankle but I didn't care. I just needed to get away. Get out of these chains - out of this _cage_. Before it ruined me - the way I ruin everything.

_Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God -_

The door opened, but not from my banging. I saw silhouettes dance in front of the opening. I tried lifting my head to see who they were, but it was far too heavy. And there was far too much pain.

Hands began reaching for me, grabbing at my legs and my chains. I twisted and shrieked through the muzzle, kicking aimlessly until I felt the shackle around my ankle snap loose. Then the hands were gone and I felt nothing at all. It was until my back was rested gently against the pavement that I realized I had been lifted.

_Blue_, my mind said to me. _Blue, Blue, Blue_. I held to that thought, using it as a sheild for everything else.

More hands, prying me up from the gravel to sit. Voices followed, little snippets that faded in and out as I struggled. Everything came in bits and pieces, my mind only processing things one and a time.

A pair of glasses behind me. Armor in front of me. A sword. A staff. Darci's jacket. Fawn fur. Steve's golden, golden hair. And a _click, click, click_ against the cuffs.

Eli.

The voices only got louder, clearer - but I shook my head to try and stop it. All I wanted was to get away. I wanted out. I wanted to fold under the darkness and never come back up.

"Steve!" A voice cut over all the others, slicing me like a razor blade. "Get that thing off her!"

Hands were on my head now, fingers digging into the straps, yanking and pulling while the leather just dug deeper. Fresh blood spilled over it.

"Just cut it!" A different voice, familiar and yet not at all.

The moment I saw the blade, a new wave of panic bubbled up in my chest. I screamed around the bit and writhed away from the hands. But they were too strong. I was too weak.

_You were born weak, and you are going to die weak._

The muzzle peeled off my face with a rush of cold air. The cuffs snapped off not a split second later and I crumbled onto my back on the pavement. My chest was heaving, my mouth gasping in gulps of air at a time. Then the sobs came, unbridled and unmuffled.

"No . . ." I gasped, scraping my palms against the road. "No, no, no - just leave me alone. I need to get - just -"

I saw armored arms spread out, ordering the others to give me space. But all I felt were a thousand eyes on me. A thousand hands down my throat. I needed to get away. I needed to run.

"Aja." Blue eyes knelt in front of me. Jim's eyes. Jim was here. "We're your friends, we're here. It's okay, you're safe now."

"No," I sobbed, over and over. "No, no, no, just leave me alone . . . please . . ."

Somewhere, a corgi's whine was heard, a small yip following. Then dark arms closed around the fawn fur and he was gone.

"You're alright, Aja," A new voice. Eli? "Just breathe, we'll take care of everything else. Just breathe, in and out. Just like that."

"No," I bawled. "Please leave . . . please just leave me alone."

"Aja, you're bleeding, I can help -"

"Stay away from me!" I cried. "Please! Leave me alone!"

For a moment I could almost see the anguish in Jim's eyes, until my own swallowed me up again. "Steve, I need you to hold her down."

I screamed, panic throttling me as I kicked against the pavement to escape. But hands grabbed me anyway.

"Why is she acting like this?" Steve's eyes were shinning. "What did that guy do to her?"

"Don't touch me!" I shrieked, tearing at them with my nails. With my teeth. "Don't _touch me!"_

"She's in shock," Eli said, his voice wavering. "Jim, if you can stop the bleeding, you need to do it now. She's nearly lost a pint - it's all over the inside of that car."

Jim shook his head. "Just hold her down."

_"No!"_

They didn't listen.

Heavy, horrible hands pinned me down until I could barely breathe. I thrashed and I kicked but they didn't stop. I threw my head from side to side, screaming the words over and over again. My chest would cave in if I didn't get away from this. I would be crushed by it. I had to get away - I had to get away -

"Angel, it's okay," A gentle voice whispered to me. "No one is going to hurt you, you're safe. I swear to God you are safe."

I arched my back in reply. _"Don't touch me!"_

"Where is she? What's going on?" The voice sounded above the crowd around me - a voice I instantly recognized, whether I wanted to or not.

"Krel, get back in the car -"

"No," He snapped. "Where is she? Jim, what are you doing? Is she okay?"

"Krel, your fever _just_ broke, you need to get back in the car - you need to rest!"

"What about the driver?" Was that . . . Toby? "Do we need to worry about him?"

"Don't think so." Darci's voice. Yes, that was Darci's voice. "He made quite the art show on the windshield."

"Wait a minute," Krel again, "is that - oh my God . . ."

"What?"

"I - I know who that is. That man, he's . . ."

There was a moment of silence.

"Zeron," Eli finished. When I looked up again, he had tears going down his face. "Oh, _Aja . . ."_

"Please!" I screamed through the sobs. "Leave me alone, let me go . . . _please . . ."_

"Wait, who's Zeron?"

"Oh God, holy hell, did she . . .?"

They'd seen it. They'd seen what I'd done. What I'd become. I had to get away. I had to escape. I had to - I had to -

"Please, _please_ let me go . . . _Stop touching me!"_

"Stop!" Krel cried, his voice straining between the rough coughs. "You're hurting her, stop!"

"She's going to be fine, just -"

"Krel, go with Claire. You need to get back in the car."

Fingers were prodding at me, right at the beating center of the pain. My shirt was tearing. The snow was searing against my skin. I couldn't take it - I had to get out of here -

"Is she okay?" Krel lurched into view for a split second. I saw a blur of Claire's arms holding him back. "Where is she hurt? How bad is it? One of you, just tell me!"

"Oh my God," Steve gasped. "Angel, I'm sorry, I didn't see - I didn't know - God, I never should've left you."

"What?" Krel begged. "Is she okay?"

"Who is Zeron?" Steve demanded. "What did he do to her?"

Eli just kept crying, hands over his mouth as he shook his head.

Toby's face leaned out of view. "More like what she did to _him."_

I threw my head back, cracking it against the pavement as one last plea ripped out of my throat. But the words were swallowed into nothing but rasps and moans. I had nothing left to fight with. I had nothing left -

_"Jim!"_ Krel's throat ripped raw over the word. Not like he'd snapped, like he'd broken. It made me feel broken, too. _"Tell me she's okay!"_

But Jim didn't say anything. After seeing the tears in his eyes, I don't know if he could.

Krel finally jerked into view as my head fell to the side, beaten and exhausted. Defeated. But once my eyes focused on him, the world seemed to slow down. His face was flushed. His hairline slick from the fever. He was wearing Eli's coat, the blue nearly blinding me.

Still, he was awake. On his feet and full of life, his legs straining to push passed Claire as she desperately held him back.

But his eyes, Mama's eyes, they were teary and wild as they searched over my face, holding a look I'd only seen once before. More than ten years ago, when he thought the Milk Fairy had killed his big sister.

Then pain turned the world white.

**(A/N): plez tell me what you're feeling, im genuinely so curious to your guys's reactions**


	22. 22

**Things Get In Tents**

**(A/N): *knee slap***

I was awake before I opened my eyes.

It was quiet. It was warm. And I jolted up, remembering the last time I'd woken up somewhere quiet and warm.

A sharp prick went through my temples at the harsh movement, my head swimming and my lungs constricting. I forced my eyes open, blinking rapidly to adjust. I had to see where I was - I had to remember what happened - I had to -

Oh.

I was in a car. _The_ car, the one the Trollhunters used. I was laid out on my back, wrapped in a blanket across the middle bench seat. Steve had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, his body slumped to the side at an odd angle with Luug curled up at his feet. He had been watching me.

So that was real. They found me. All of them did.

Getting up was like climbing up from underwater, fighting the current with trembling and exhausted limbs. My muscles ached in a way they never had before, like I was falling apart on the inside. I was out of breath just sitting up.

I leaned into the seat, letting my head fall back as I tried to breathe. The exhaustion destroyed all my senses, the world falling into blurs until my eyelids fell with it.

_You're going to ruin everything!_

_Keep the others in their place._

_You are . . . you are a monster._

I jolted back up like I'd been shocked. Maybe I had been. It was like someone had poured ice down my back, letting it seep through my skin and twist my insides. God, I was going to be sick. I was - I was -

_A boy and a girl. They had Varvatos's eyes, but their mother's hair. They had the same knack for trouble Krel and I did._

A hoarse cry ripped from my throat. I lurched forward, gripping my hair and squeezing my eyes shut. "No," I begged. "No, no, no . . ."

But the images didn't stop.

_Varvatos had been able to hold them both in one arm. He used to throw them onto their beds as a game. Their mother used to sing to them, making up the words to make them laugh._

"Please . . ." A sob burst from my throat, my entire frame bending forward to bury my face in my lap. I tore at my scalp, as if I could dig the memories out of my head. The flood pounded into me anyway, memories I had no right to see tearing apart everything left inside me. I couldn't breathe - I couldn't breathe -

I had to get away.

My fingers were clumsy and slippery as they fumbled with the door handle. The wave of freezing air was more refreshing than painful, a strong contrast from the stale air of the car. I stumbled out into the snow, my eyes darting from left to right to find something to zero in on - something other than the memories.

But all I saw was white. White trees. White ground. White falling through the air. Color was always strongest against white.

The red splattered all over again in my mind. The real and the illusion. The little curls the girl had drawn on Zeron's face in her blood. The grime and pulsing red that had soaked through to his skin. It was soaking through to my skin now. It was stinging. Burning. _Suffocating._

I had to get away.

Something green caught my eye, so loud and bright before it disappeared behind me. A tent. The Trollhunters tent. I had helped them pack it up, before they looked at me like the monster I was.

_You aren't worth the air you breathe._

Another cry bubbled past my lips, somewhere between a wail and a whimper. My legs began moving sluggishly beneath me, my entire body teetering from side to side. I had to reach out against the rough bark of the trees to keep upright. I was too tired. Too crushed.

I had to get away from this - before I was crushed into nothing.

So much blood. So many faces. So many lives and eyes, so young and so tormented. And I took all of them, ripping them up from where they rested to puppeteer them - as if I owned them. To torture. To kill.

_No, you're going to kill you._

My body slumped against the trunk of a tree, sobs racking me from the inside out, as deep and as wet as Krel's coughs. I couldn't take this. I couldn't survive it. I wanted to be sick, I wanted to hurl everything inside me out and onto the snow. But there wasn't anything in me anymore. This was who I'd become.

I slid down to the ground, my knees refusing to hold me up any longer. The bare roots of the tree were hard and lumpy beneath me. The collar of my coat felt like a noose. The falling snow clung to my eyelashes, and even that felt suffocating.

More faces. More screams. More torment that was never mine to see, never mine to use. The dozens of voices were screaming at me now. And I deserved it.

_The only place for you is in a cage or buried with the rest of them._

My head ducked against my knees, my body folding over. My fingers gripped the back of my head, gauging at the skin. "Stop," I pleaded, _"stop."_

And it hurt. Oh, it hurt. The sledgehammer in my skull. The needles in my skin. The ache deep in my bones. There wasn't enough room in my lungs for the air I needed. And no matter what I tried, nothing could relieve the horrible, caving pressure there. All I could do was tremble beneath it.

I didn't know Krel was awake until he sat down next to me.

He was still wearing Eli's coat, the front of it unzipped despite the cold. The two of us reflected thick glares of blue light against the snow. He didn't say anything for a moment, letting me unstiffen myself. Letting me lift my head to see him.

He was alive. He was real. That much I could hold onto.

The glassiness of his eyes was gone. Even the flushing from the fever had vanished. The scar at the center of his forehead was still pink and healing. His breaths were even and steady, only once interrupted by a hoarse cough.

Krel wasn't looking at me at first, eyes trained sharply on the snow ahead of us. When he finally turned towards me, he could only focus on my feet. Then my knees. The shimmering shoulders of my coat. And finally my face. As if he had to build up the courage to see me.

It took all of my courage to see him, too.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

I'd pulled myself together, from the moment I felt him lower himself beside me, I'd forced myself to. I'd clambered up walls and jammed support beams inside me. I'd put up a facade, as well as I could. And those three words were all it took to collapse everything.

My face crumpled into a sob, the tears falling on their own accord. I tried to tuck myself back into my knees, but I leaned towards him before I could stop myself. Like it was just instinct. And he caught me, bringing me into his arms and cradling me against his chest.

He was holding me, the way he used to hold me when I cried at Trollmarket. The way I had held him the night he told me what the League had done to him. The way Mama and Papa used to hold us when we were scared at night.

I should've pulled away. I should've stood up and left. But I was already so broken, I couldn't resist pretending, for just a moment, that I was Aja Tarron again. The one I used to be. The one Krel knew and loved. The one that still had the good heart and the gentle soul Mama and Papa had prayed for, all those years ago.

He clung to me tighter, his sternum shuddering against my cheek as he held back sobs of his own. I felt my tears soak through the fabric of his shirt. I felt his arms squeeze harder and harder around me, as if he couldn't hold me tight enough.

His chin rested over my head, a hand reaching to wrap around my shaking shoulder, rubbing the warmth back into it as I cried. And he was warm, so starkly warm against the air that I couldn't help but press my nose into the folds of his coat. He still smelled like fresh bread and aged paper.

"Tell me what to do," His voice was barely even a whisper. "Tell me how to make this stop. Tell me how to make you okay again."

I felt like breaking all over again. Like a knife had gone through my heart, over and over. It was so intense, I felt bile rise in the back of my throat.

My mouth opened, but all that came out was a wail, muffled into the edge of his coat. There was no making this stop. There was no taking back what I'd done. But I couldn't say the words, so I shook my head into his shirt instead.

His rubbing of my arm gradually turned into an absent tapping. It took me far too long to realize he was trying to think, racking his brain for a solution. But there was no solution. Not this time.

"There's - there has to be something in the bag . . . in the medicine," He muttered. "Something to help you rest, or . . . or . . ."

I felt myself slipping under. I felt myself fading and I didn't want to stop. I didn't have the strength to, or maybe it was the courage. Maybe it was the will at all. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep them as steady as Krel's. As if that could somehow take away the pain.

"Tell me," He pleaded. "I can't - This is . . . It's too much."

_Too much_, my mind whispered to me, over and over. _Too much, too much, too much._

"Guys?"

We pulled apart a small ways, craning our necks back to see Eli standing a few paces away. He was wearing one of the coats we'd found at the ranger's station.

"Um," He ducked his head. "We're gonna start making breakfast if you're interested . . ."

I nodded, even though I wasn't. He shot me a heavy look, warning me to stop playing this game before he turned to leave. As sharp as it was, he was right. I couldn't keep this up. My moment of pretend was over. Time to leave.

Krel's arms were suddenly very stiff around me, his whole torso leaning away awkwardly. When his eyes landed on me again, they were guarded. Unfamiliar. And cringing with embarrassment.

"Uh . . . I - I'm sorry," He managed, a nervous laugh following. "I don't - I don't know what came over me."

He continued to move away, leaving me cold and numb as I started down into my lap. Is it possible to keep hitting rock bottom? Because letting Krel comfort me was a bruising low.

He was flustered now, stunned by such a strong moment of intimacy with a complete stranger. Tapping his fingers and rubbing the back of his neck. He was uncomfortable with me, and rightfully so.

Your moment of pretend is over, I repeated to myself. It's time to leave.

But the moment I stood, Krel did too. "Wait," He said. "I - uh, you - you're Aja, right?"

I nodded.

"Eli told me about you," He said. "Everyone at the station called you the Blue Lady. You're the one Zadra sent after me?"

I nodded again.

"He said we'd never met before, but -"

Oh no.

"- I think we have. I - I _know_ we have."

I lowered my eyes, picking absently as the hem of my coat. "I talked to you while you were sick."

"No, no - well, I mean, yes, I know that happened," He pinched his brows together, shaking his head a little to clear his thoughts. "But that's not it. It was before that, I know it was -"

"I rescued you from goblins," I blurted. "And I handed you a backpack at a safe house in Maryland. Remember?"

He did, it was written all over his face. But somehow, so was disappointment.

"Oh." And he deflated.

"Do you have the flash drive on you?" I forced my voice to be even. Unattached. Professional.

His face became guarded again. "I know where it is."

I let my eyes become as stern as his. "Where?"

"Safe."

"Krel," I warned. "That is classified intel -"

He folded his arms. "Remind me again who found it?"

"Remind me again who was sent to _retrieve_ it?" I shot back. "Tell me where the flash drive is."

"Or what?" He spat. "If you wanted to hurt me, you would've left me in that tribe to die."

"You don't understand -"

_"No,"_ He took another step closer. "You don't understand. I need that intel, you don't." And he shoved passed me.

"What?" I whipped around, stumbling after him in the snow. "What are you talking about? You're the one who sent up the help signal!"

"Well, it was a mistake."

I had to take a measured breath. "That intel could save lives -"

"I know what it can do," He turned back at me, narrowing his eyes. "And I can do it without the League."

"No, this isn't - _hey_ -" I grabbed his arm. "There are people in the League, evil people, alright? And they're planning something horrible -"

"The League is a lost cause," Krel wrenched his arm back. "You're a part of it. You should know that."

"It's not a lost cause," I hissed through gritted teeth. "That intel is proof. It could sway the staff to a different side - a _better_ side."

He scoffed. "You actually believe that?"

"Your parents believed it."

Krel froze, giving me exactly one second to realize I had said the wrong thing.

"And you know that _how?"_ He demanded. "And you know anything about my parents _how_, exactly?"

Needless to say, I choked. "Um -"

"Answer me!"

"Varvatos and Zadra filled me in, okay?" I threw out my hands. "Just things I needed to know."

"Things you needed to know?" He parroted. "Why the hell would you need to know anything about my family?"

"I mean it's helpful information if I have to keep chasing you down to save your sorry ass." I punctuated the sentence with a shove at his shoulders.

_"Don't,"_ Krel slammed his hands against my collar bone, "push me."

"Then I'd recommend you don't push me," I snapped back. "I came here for the flash drive and I'll be leaving with it one way or another."

"Is that a threat?"

"What do you even plan on doing with it?" I asked. "You honestly think you could display that kind of intel on your own?"

"You don't know anything about me," He replied, and I wanted to scream.

_I'm your sister and I know everything about you._

"You don't have the necessary resources to spread that intel," I settled for instead. "Not without getting yourself caught and killed."

"What's it to you?" He retorted. "We're not friends. Why do you care?"

I hesitated, choking on the words before they finally came. "If you go down, that intel will go down with you. And we'll never see it again."

"And what do you think will happen when you take it to the League?" He hissed. "You think they're suddenly going to start playing nice with us kids? Did you even think what might happen if it gets into the wrong hands?"

"Did you even think about how you were going to use it?" I could feel my voice raising. "Where were you going to get the resources? Out of thin air?"

"None of your business!"

"Oh, like hell it is!"

"Guys!"

We turned towards the voice, falling back a step when we saw Eli. We'd walked far enough for the campfire Jim had going to come into view. Claire, Toby, Darci, and Eli were all sitting around it, munching on food bars as they pretended not to notice our argument.

"Steve's still trying to sleep, so . . ."

Blowing a strong breath out of his nose, Krel shoved passed me towards the tent, making sure to slam his shoulder against my collar bone as he did. My hands curled into fists. It took several deep breaths to keep myself from turning around and going after him.

"Aja?"

I blinked, shaking myself from the stupor to face Jim.

He hesitated for a second. "How are you feeling?"

I knew it was a double sided question, so I guess it was only a half-lie. "I'm fine."

He rose to his feet. "Can I see your side?"

With a nod, I strode over to the circle of worn camping chairs they had set up around the fire. I knelt one knee on the tattered seat and lifted my arms just enough for Jim to pry up the side of my shirt. I hadn't even realized they'd changed my shirt at all until then.

There was a thick layer of gauze wrapped around my middle, the skin puckering with pain as Jim carefully unraveled it. The sight alone nearly knocked me over. The skin had been pinched together, melted into place, then seared flat - as if done with a clothing iron.

I drew in a sharp breath, turning away from the sight to look at Jim. "You cauterized it?"

"Didn't really have a choice with how much you were bleeding," He winced. "But it's almost healed, so, silver lining."

My brows pinched together. "Almost healed? How's that possible?" My head whipped back to Claire and Toby. "How long have I been out?"

"Like, two days," Claire shrugged. "But Jim's burns heal quickly anyway. He sucks the heat out of them."

I glanced back at Jim and he gave me a steady nod. "You're healing okay, but I still need to clean it again. And it . . . isn't gonna be fun."

I sighed. "Fantastic."

"I'm sorry," He cringed. "But cauterization hikes up the risk of infection like a whole mountain. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure it heals properly."

I softened at his tone. "Thanks."

"You might want to sit down for this."

Having alcohol poured over the wound was like setting it on fire all over again. Maybe getting stabbed all over again as well. But it didn't last more than five minutes, then Jim was wrapping it snugly with gauze once more.

Just as I was sitting down at the fire, Steve launched out of the car, his eyes wide with fright. "Guys!" He cried, tumbling into the snow with Luug. "Aja's gone!"

Toby didn't even look up from his food bar. "Relax, Dillweed. She's over here."

I pushed myself to my feet and met him halfway between the car and the fire for a hug, Luug jumping and yipping at my legs. I could feel how tightly Steve wanted to hold me, but he held himself back for the sake of my side.

"You okay, angel?" He pulled back, brushing the hair away from my face as Luug leapt into my arms. "I'm so sorry, I never should've -"

I cut him off with a kiss, slowly letting him warm up to my lips. "It's okay," I told him once we'd parted. "We're okay."

I could only hope it was true.

"Come on," I tugged him towards the fire. "Let's get you two warmed up."

We took the seat I'd been previously sat in, with him sitting down and me curled up on his lap, while Luug snuggled between us. Eli made a gagging sound but Claire slapped his arm for it.

I sat up a little to talk. "How did you guys find me?" I asked. "What happened?"

"Well," Steve ran his fingers through his hair. "When you didn't come back after an hour, I went back to find you, like I said I would. That's when I bumped into the these guys again and they were able to get Eli and I access to the troll network."

"Merlin gave us a passcode just in case," Claire explained. "So we just waited around until your ID showed up along with the registration and license plate of the car that took you. We figured whoever did would be taking you East, towards DC, so we followed the roads leading there until we found you." She shrugged. "Easy."

"Thanks," I said after a few beats of silence. "For . . . not giving up on me."

"You seriously thought we would?" Eli leaned forward. "That we wouldn't do anything and everything we could to find you?"

"I know you're not technically a Trollhunter," Toby said. "But you're part of the family now. And family means no one gets left behind or forgotten."

_"Lilo and Stitch,"_ Steve nodded with approval. "Classic."

I lowered my eyes to my lap, combing my fingers through Luug's soft fur. That's not what I meant by the thanks, but I wasn't sure I wanted to prod at that area any more than I already had.

"So," Jim leaned with his elbows on his knees. "What's the plan now?"

I swallowed thickly. "I need to convince him to hand the flash drive over, preferably before he tries to run off with it."

It took a moment, but eventually everyone understood what I meant by 'him'.

"Run?" Toby scoffed. "The dude is just getting walking down - still getting over the whole pneumonia business. It's probably why he's been so . . ."

"Moody?" I suggested.

"That's one word for it," Steve grumbled.

"He's got more mood swings than Enrique's last birthday party," Claire said. "I think we're all starting to worry about him."

"I'm sure he's fine," Jim spread his hands. "He's just adjusting as he's healing. It's normal - I think. But either way, he'll need a while to fully recover. We've got time."

"Yeah, but we're not gonna have any food left by the end of the week," She replied. "Unless we can find a way to drive out of here."

"What do you mean?"

Steve pointed to a wide trail across from the camp, filled with snow. "That's where we drove in, but because of the storm, there's no way back to the main road. We're stuck here until the snow melts."

"And until the PSF security moves on," Jim added. "I could melt the snow to clear the way, but then we might as well put up a sign letting everyone know we're here. Once that tribe you were at learns to disappear again, we'll be out of here."

"And," Toby glanced at me, "then what?"

All eyes were on me now. They were all waiting for me to make the decision. It was my idea to come here in the first place. My plan they were only helping with.

I gave him a knowing smile. "We'll burn that bridge when we get there."

Krel didn't come back out of the tent for hours, only appearing once when Luug trotted over to climb in with him. Claire said he was probably sleeping since he was still getting over his fever, but I could tell by his eyes that he hadn't been. He was beyond exhausted, his eyes almost as bloodshot as when we'd found him in that tribe.

Not to mention how Luug was so tenderly curled on his lap as he sat by the fire, as if sensing how much he needed the comfort.

There wasn't much to do as we sat around the fire, snuggling for warmth and talking to chase boredom. Time, quiet, and obvious embarrassment from all his breakdowns had softened Krel a little, first with Eli, especially once the two started up the word games they'd invented when we drove with Black Betty. Then with Steve, since Eli and him are a package deal in whatever way you look at it. Eventually with Jim, since he still needed to play doctor for a bit longer. And finally with Claire and Toby, because they seemed just as cranky once we had to start rationing food.

But never with me.

He refused to look me in the eye, to even look in my general direction unless it was absolutely necessary. He wouldn't speak to me unless I spoke to him first, and even then it was short, snappy responses. I offered him a food bar for dinner and he'd grumbled "Whatever," before snatching it out of my hands and stalking off.

If I sat next to him at the fire, he would immediately stand, rattling off some excuse before going back to the tent. And if I slept even near him, he'd move as far away as possible. The first night we were there, I'd been up on watch with Eli for the midnight to three shift. When I came back after trading shifts with Steve, everyone had moved, leaving the only available spot next to Krel.

Within ten minutes, I felt someone shaking my shoulder.

"What?" I groaned at the dark. Then Krel's face came into view.

"Move," He hissed. "Now."

I blinked, glancing between us to make sure I wasn't dreaming. "What? Why?"

"You're squishing me."

There was a good two inches of space between us. "No, I'm not."

"Yes," Krel gritted his teeth. "You are."

Luug's head appeared from beneath Krel's blanket, obviously disturbed from the noise and movement around him. He looked at me with sleepy, brown eyes, then yawned with his wide jaw. Then he just looked confused.

So was I.

"Why is this such a big deal?" I snapped. "Just go back to sleep."

I tried to lay back down, but he shoved at my shoulder again. Luug let out a small whine. _"Move."_

"Are you serious?" I looked back up at him. "You really can't get over yourself for four hours to let us sleep?"

"Fine!" Slamming down his pillow, Krel jerked up to his feet and stomped to the door of the tent.

Luug whimpered, drawing back to avoid being pushed from the sudden movement. Behind me, Jim sat up, blinking his eyes to clear them. Krel didn't acknowledge any of it, only zipping the door closed with more force than necessary.

"What was that about?" Jim muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Doesn't matter," I replied, scooping Luug under my own blanket and flopping back onto the fleece bedding. That is, until I heard Krel and Steve's voices escalate as they bickered outside. A hard weight settled in my stomach.

Fantastic.

"Where are you going?" Jim asked.

Leaving Luug wrapped in wool, I tugged on my boots and began fumbling with the door. "To make sure Krel doesn't kill my boyfriend."

When I stepped out, the two boys were shouting at each other at the edge of the clearing before the tree line. Krel kept waving his arms, his voice getting louder and louder as his argument escalated. Steve on the other was holding his hands out to pacify, constantly glancing around to see if all of Krel's screaming would alert anyone to our location.

"Where did she even come from?" Krel asked. "How long have you known her?"

"Long enough," Steve snapped back. "Can you just take a deep breath?"

"We have no reason to trust her!" Krel stabbed a finger back at the tent. "She's got you all wrapped around her finger, and she could be _anybody._ She's with the League for God's sake - she's dangerous. If you would stop ogling her for five seconds, you'd see that!"

"She saved your damn life," Steve hissed. "If you can't -" He stopped as soon as he saw me.

"God," Krel threw up his hands one last time, "do you ever mind your own business?"

I stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. Then I finally pointed my hand behind me. "Go back to the tent."

"Don't act like you can order me around," He snapped.

"It's not an order, it's common sense," I replied. "You're still sick. Also, you are not wearing shoes."

Krel looked about ready to explode. "Mind your own goddamn business!"

"What is your problem?" I shouted back. "You ignore me all day, then freak out at me at three in the morning? What do you _want_ from me?"

"To be left alone would be nice," Krel growled, elbowing passed me and fuming all the way back to the tent.

"Yeesh," Steve said once the tent door zipped closed again. "What is _with_ him?"

"Wish I knew," I muttered.

"I know I haven't seen a lot of him, but I've never seen him like this."

"Neither have I," I shook my head. "Something's wrong. This isn't like him."

"He was like this before you even woke up," Steve continued. "And when we found you, he was _more_ than freaking out. Full on meltdown mode. I thought the dude was gonna give himself a heart attack."

I sighed, lowering myself down onto a nearby tree stump. "And now he can't even be near me without having a heart attack."

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. With an exhale, he came to sit beside me. "Aja, I know I said no promises before but . . . I need you to make me one."

"A promise?"

He nodded. The look in his eye made my gut twist.

"What kind of promise?"

He took a deep breath. "I'm not choosing, angel. I'm not letting you go again and I'm not leaving Eli and I'm not letting Krel wander off to get himself killed - maybe for real this time. So when the time comes to take the flash drive thing to the League, you have to promise me that you'll make it work - why are you shaking your head?"

"I can't let Krel near the League," I said. "Not again. We have to think about this very carefully, Steve. If anyone from the League finds out what this Op was about before I can get there, they will kill Krel. He knows too much. He's defected too many times. Not to mention, they will do whatever it takes to control me. I don't have a choice."

"But what if . . ." He hesitated. "What about your grandpa? He helped you with safe places once, couldn't he do it again?"

"There are no guarantees," I shook my head. "It isn't safe -"

"Aja, nowhere is safe." Steve laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. "He stayed in the League and he was tortured. You let him out and he nearly drops dead right in front of us. There isn't a place we can put him that he'll be okay forever. There isn't a place like that for anybody. But if we get him to stay with us? At least we'll be there with him. At least we'll know he's alive."

I stared down at my boots, feeling the tears gather behind my eyes. "If I stay, he won't want to. It's better if I go."

"What did I just say?" Steve tilted my chin up to face him. "I'm not letting you go again. And I'm not letting you do this alone."

"But Krel -"

"We'll convince him." He held out his hand, offering me his pinky. "I know it's weird but . . . we're a family too now, no one gets left behind and all that cheesy stuff. We've got to stick together."

I stared at his pinky for a moment, watching it blanch from the cold. Finally, I looked back up at his eyes, and he could see all my doubt.

"Please, angel," Steve whispered. "I can't lose any of you guys."

I closed my eyes, a final sigh making my shoulders droop. "Okay," I said, hooking my pinky around his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Okay."

Tugging on my hand, he brought me over for a short kiss, entangling his fingers with mine. "Can I ask you something?"

I felt a smile come. "Yes."

"Are you," He pursed his lips. "Are you ever gonna tell Krel who you really are? Are you ever gonna . . . undo what you did?"

The pressure in my chest skyrocketed into suffocating. It took several seconds for me to have enough air to respond. "I hope so."

His shoulders drooped with disappointment. "What does that mean?"

"It means I want to - more than anything. But," I looked down at my hands, "I can't yet - it's not safe yet, and . . . and . . ."

Steve lowered his eyes, guessing my next words.

"I'm not sure I know how."


	23. 23

**The Next Time I Open Up To Someone, It'll Be My Autopsy**

I slept in until around midday the next morning. Both because I'd been up all night with Steve and because I didn't want to face Krel again. Every time I saw him, something in me lurched, aching to have my missing half back. But that just made it hurt all the worse when he wouldn't stop giving me the cold shoulder.

When Luug finally dragged me out to snuggle beside Steve before the fire, Eli was well into the story of how we ended up in Ohio in the first place, his eyes and hands wild with gestures as he spoke.

"- and on the train we bump into these really nasty looking people, like they haven't bathed in a century kind of nasty, and Princess here got herself knocked out cold so they dragged us to their truck and drove us to this weird campground kinda like this one. So we're stuck there, kinda freaking out about what we're gonna do and you're not gonna believe who showed up at the last second."

Krel leaned back on his palms, an easy smile on his face. It seemed he'd calmed down considerably since last night, enough to be completely enthralled in Eli's story. "Who?"

"Izita," Eli blurted, all excitement and suspense. "Davaros's mom!"

"Wait really?" Steve glanced at me, Claire and Jim following. All of them had looks mixed with sympathy and joy. It made my chest grow warm - until I saw Krel's face. He looked disgusted.

And that's when Eli realized his mistake.

"Who's Davaros?" Krel asked, the attitude from last night returning.

"Uh . . ." Eli licked his lips. "Well, she's -"

"Davaros, Davaros, Davaros," Krel muttered, pinching his brows together in thought. "Wait a minute, is it someone I've met?"

"Er - I don't -"

"It's someone I knew," I finished, before Eli could. "She . . . isn't around anymore."

Krel's face softened a little, almost looking sympathetic before turning right back to disgust. "Then how does everyone here know her?"

"We've probably told you the story," Steve managed. "Remember? We've all known Aja for a while."

"Yeah," Jim cut in. "She went to school with us, before you came to Arcadia."

Krel turned his scrutinizing glare back to me, staring for a few more seconds before rising to his feet and stalking back towards the tent.

"Where are you going?" Eli called.

"I'm tired," He replied. "Didn't sleep well."

I did my best to ignore Krel's antics for the rest of the day, but that was difficult when every snub sent a knife through my chest. I tried not to care. I tried to focus on other things, like playing catch with Luug or the question game with Steve. But deep down, I couldn't shake it. He was my brother and I still loved him, even if I wasn't his sister anymore.

Around dinner time that night, I noticed Krel sitting off by himself, staring numbly as Luug bounced around him for attention. His shoulders were hung heavily and his eyes were solemnly cast. When Luug finally got a smile out of him, it look so . . . lonely.

It was gone the moment he threw the stick and Luug went charging after it.

The older sister instinct in me kicked in, screaming to at least talk to him. Cheer him up somehow. But I bit it back, telling myself that Eli would go talk to him. Or Steve. Maybe even Darci. But all three of them were far too concered over Steve's scars to notice.

He was standing with his shirt lifted, displaying the two, stitched Xs across his torso. "Pretty sweet, huh Pepperjack?" He laughed. "I'm like Frankenstein!"

"Frankenstein was the doctor," Darci pointed out.

"No," Eli shot her a look. "He was a college drop out. The only thing that loser has a doctorate in, is imagination."

Darci looked at him for a moment. "Frankenstein was the graverobber." She corrected.

So I finally gave in.

He was sitting on the gnarled roots of a tree, staring down the incline they faced as I watched a blur of fawn fur dart back forth. I lowered myself next to him, watching him tense up. I tried not to press my luck, but all I could remember was the last time I'd sat on tree roots and Krel had come to comfort me. Maybe he would let me do the same for him.

He hadn't stood to leave yet, so that was a good sign.

"Hey," I said. "Um, have you had any water yet?"

He didn't answer right away, his eyes darting back and forth like he was nervous. "I'm fine," He finally choked out.

But his voice was higher than normal, cracking a little. I leaned forward and caught a hint of tears in his eyes before he jerked his head away. He - he was trying to keep from crying, to the point where his shoulders shook from it.

Why was he crying?

Say something! My mind hissed at me. Something funny!

"Uh . . ." I strangled out. "Why don't British people put a star on top of their Christmas trees?"

I don't think anything could've caught him more off guard than that.

His head whipped back to me, his torso leaning away in confusion. At least he didn't have tears in his eyes anymore. ". . . What?"

"It's a joke," I said. "Just say 'why'."

". . . Why?"

"Because where else would you put the tea bag?"

I waited for him to laugh. It didn't happen. He just looked more confused. And the awkward silence turned tangible very quickly. Finally, he pulled a fake smile and gave me a breathy, pity laugh. Honestly, it would've been better if he'd just continued staring.

At least he was trying.

I let out a heavy sigh, shaking my head as I rose to my feet. "Nevermind. You know where to get water if you need it."

Way to go, Aja.

"Wait."

I stopped, turning back to see Krel again. The tears were back, but so was something else. Something softer.

I took a careful step towards him. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes," He forced out, turning away from my to wipe his face. I heard him sniffle. "I - uh, I just wanted to ask you . . ."

A bundle of nerves turned over in my stomach. "Ask me what?"

He raised a hesitant hand to his forehead. "Why do you have one, too?"

Oh.

"Eli won't tell me, and neither will Steve, so . . ."

"I have it," I started, not knowing where to finish, "for the same reason you do, I guess."

Krel's brows knitted together.

"What?" I asked. "You thought your parents were the only ones to get on Morando's bad side?"

He just lowered his eyes in response. I turned to leave again, but then Krel was on his feet, reaching out to catch my arm. "What's your name?" He asked.

I blinked at him. "Aja."

"No, no," He shook his head. "Your last name. What are your parents names? I might be able to help you find them, the way I'm trying to find mine."

It took several seconds to regain my bearings, and several more to come up with a viable answer. "My parents are gone," I said. "You can't help."

This time, when I walked away, he didn't stop me.

I took the first shift that night, walking circles around the camp with Steve to keep the blood flowing. He was near dead on his feet, so I sent him back to the tent early for some rest. But by the time Jim came out for his shift, once again, the only available space was beside Krel.

Shit.

I headed right back out, lowering myself into a camping chair across the fire pit from Jim. "Slept in today," I said. "I'm not tired."

He looked a little surprised, but just shrugged his shoulders in the end. Waving his hand towards the pit, the flames rose a little higher, the heat waving back towards me instead of just him.

"Thanks," I said, rubbing my arms.

"So," Jim leaned back in his chair. "Have you figured out a bridge to burn yet?"

I let out a humorless laugh, tucking my legs under me. "I don't know."

He leaned his elbows on his knees, gesturing for me to continue.

"I promised Steve I'd keep us together," I said. "But the more I think about it, the more impossible it seems."

He slowly nodded his head, drawing his sword to prod at the coals.

"I'm in way over my head," I whispered, "aren't I?"

He didn't say anything for a while.

"So am I."

I looked up. "You?"

"All the kids who didn't make it out of the battle at Trollmarket," He said, "Morgana took into her army. She's going to try and take over and make this world just as bad as before but in the opposite way. Then on the other hand, I've got Morando throwing kids in cages, hunting down everyone I care about, and destroying everything I've worked for. I'm caught between two ends of the spectrum and they both suck."

"That's what it's like for all of us," I said, playing with the hem of my coat. "We're either in camps, with the League, or on the run. There's not even a choice, no middle ground. You can only pick your poison."

"Trollmarket was supposed to be the middle ground."

"It was," I said, watching the fire dance in his eyes. The pain there.

"And now it's gone. Again."

"But you're not," I replied. "And if we've got the Trollhunters, we can always make a new Trollmarket. However many times we have to."

Jim's shoulders sunk under an invisible weight. His eyes lowered and hollowed out. Every part of him seemed to go still. Too tired to process. Too exhausted to try again.

Yet.

His eyes flickered back up to me without warning. "Why are you really out here?"

"I told you," I said. "I'm not tired."

His brows lowered. "You are just as tired as I am, Aja. It's literally radiating off of you."

I sighed, looking away and curling my knees closer to my chest. I'd dealt with this enough for one day. I just wanted -

"Something's eating away at you," Jim said, his eyes not leaving the coals.

I blinked. "What?"

"Trust me," He gave me a sad smile. "Takes one to know one."

I didn't say anything for a long time.

"Is it about Zeron?"

My eyes shot back up, every part of me going stiff. "Wh-wha- ?"

"That was his name, right?" He asked. "The man that took you, the one you . . ."

I suddenly felt very sick.

"Eli and Krel told us his name but nothing about him," Jim continued, "so I don't know what he did to you, but Aja, when we found you, you were near hysterics. Do you even remember it?"

I shrugged at the ground, wishing I could disappear beneath it.

"What I'm trying to say is, whatever happened, it was self-defense. You don't have to tear yourself apart over something any of us would've done. We never would've found you in time -"

"It's not that." My voice was barely above a whisper.

"Then what is it?" Jim's voice became feather soft. "I can tell it's eating you up inside - and trust me, the best thing to do about it, is to talk. So whenever you're ready to start, I'm ready to listen."

I swallowed, bitter tears gathering in my eyes. Neither of us spoke for a long moment, just watching the flames, and trying to patch together an ending for this conversation.

"What eats away at you?" I finally whispered.

Jim released a heavy sigh, as if expecting the question but still dreading it. His eyes looked so heavy now. So much darkness to hide, so many secrets to keep.

"I think about . . ." The words caught in his throat, "why I became the Trollhunter in the first place. Why, out of anyone else, Merlin chose me. Why I had to drag everyone I loved into it, and now there's no way out. Why I can't ever seem to be . . ." He took a deep breath. "I can't ever protect them the way I want to - the way I _need_ to."

Claire's deflated and hollow form lying beneath Christmas lights suddenly flashed in my mind. Toby's scars. Friends they had lost along the way. The parents Jim never seemed to mention.

"And then," Jim gave a humorless laugh, "of course, there's Enrique."

I perked up at the name, suddenly feeling guilty for not asking sooner. "Did you find him?" The moment I asked the question, I knew I shouldn't have.

"It's complicated," Jim croaked. "Messy."

I didn't want to press, but in the end, I didn't do it for me. I didn't because I knew Jim had to say it to someone.

"Messy how?"

He swallowed. "When I was in the Darklands, I heard rumors about how far Leda Corp was willing to go for more . . . _soldiers."_ He spat the word out with disgust. "I didn't believe them because I didn't want to. I wasted valuable time because I thought we had more of it. Claire's brother, he was _right there_. I could've gotten him, I could've thought of _something_. But by the time I realized . . . it was too late."

I almost didn't ask. "What did you realize?"

"The Psi virus only produces the desired result in two percent of the population." Suddenly he sounded like he was reciting an article. "For whatever reason, only certain DNA types can withstand its affects. So, in order to produce more of those affects, they have begun . . . recreating the DNA."

I stared at him. "Recreating DNA."

"Cloning," Jim said. "They're cloning Reds."

I almost forgot how to breathe. "Like . . . in _Star Wars?"_

"If _Star Wars_ was written by Lovecraft."

Nausea flushed over me, make me lurch in the chair. "Did you . . ." I stuttered out. "Did you find him?"

"No," Jim tossed his sword handle from palm to palm. "And yes."

There were tears in my eyes. "You found a copy of him."

He could barely even nod.

"What's he like?"

Jim sighed out his nose, his shoulders almost relaxing. "Loud. Mouthy. Never seems to run low on dirty socks."

I almost managed a snicker.

"He's not Enrique," He said. "Like, literally. That's the name he's dubbed."

I sniffled. "How creative."

"I promised Claire we'd find him," Jim whispered to the fire. "I promised her I'd get him back. But I failed. More than failed, I lost him all over again. Now he's gone, God knows what's happened to him. And our only clue is some drunk science project."

"A drunk what now?"

"Not important," Jim waved his hand, taking a few breaths to calm the tears in his eyes. "The point is; whatever you have weighing you down, no matter how big or scary or - or how much it hurts, you can tell me. Whenever you're ready."

It took a good twenty minutes for me to be ready.

I don't know why it was so easy to tell Jim things. Why it was so easy to open up to him when I'd trained myself to be clammed shut for so long. Maybe it was his own openness, how he trusted me so easily. Talked to me freely. It made me want to do the same, no matter what he'd think of me afterwards.

But I don't know what he thought of me after I told him. After I regurgitated every sick, twisted detail about what I'd done to Zeron. About what I'd done to Logan. His face didn't change. His blade didn't stop stoking the fire. The quiet compassion never left his eyes.

"I went too far," I said, my throat raw and tears streaming down my face. "I went over the edge and then some. And I can never take it back."

He only nodded to the fire.

"I was in control," I said. "I could get anything I wanted - I could finally punish all the people that hurt me, or you, or Krel. And I still wanted more. That was all I could think, more, more, more. I wanted him to feel more pain. More terror. And I couldn't stop myself - I didn't even want to."

Jim raised his eyes. "He wouldn't have stopped either, Aja."

"It's not just Zeron," I shook my head. "Steve told you about the Red we fought, right? When I was in his head, my first thought wasn't to help him. It was turn him against Logan and use him as a weapon. That was my first instinct." I looked down at my hands. "That's always my first instinct."

"That's why you wanted us to leave you," He said. "And . . . not touch you."

"I don't want to be this, Jim," I whispered, fresh tears spilling over. "I don't want to use my abilities unless I have to - but how do I stop myself? What if I _can't_ stop myself, and something happens to you, or Claire, or Steve, or Eli, or . . ."

_Krel._ The unspoken word made my insides curdle.

Jim laid his sword to the side, sitting up to face me. "Do you remember Seamus?"

I wiped my nose. "Of course."

"When I met him," Jim's eyes lifted, recalling the memory. "There were things I noticed - red flags, I guess. But I didn't want to believe any of them because he'd done so much for me. He got me out of the Darklands, he made breaking out of Caledonia possible. I was blinded by loyalty and because of it, Trollmarket fell. That's something I can never take back either."

I looked away.

"But when I met you," He leaned forward again, "there were no red flags. And believe me, I looked for them. But you're good, Aja. You're trustworthy and honest - you're a fighter. That was obvious from day one."

I stared numbly into the fire. "That's why you trusted me with Claire."

"And thank God I did," He replied. "You saved her life."

"Claire saved herself," I said. "I just . . . opened the door for her."

"Still," Jim opened his hands. "You care about the people around you. You take care of them with everything you have and expect nothing in return. Seamus wasn't like that. He would manipulate situations, sacrifice the wrong things, push people out of the way to get what he wanted."

"It does something to you," I said. "This kind of power, it can mess with who you think you are. That's what scares me most. Even at the end of the day, I understand why he did what he did. They took everything from us. If we have the power to, why shouldn't we take it back?"

"But the fact that you can even say these things means you're not like him and you probably never will be. I understand why you're afraid, I've felt it too. But you're missing the key difference between you and him."

"What?"

"You are _not alone,"_ He said. "And you never will be, even if it feels like it. You have people around you that care about you. And not because you're forcing them to, but because they - _we_ want to. Do you think Seamus would've fallen half as far if there were people there to step in and tell him when to stop?"

I closed my eyes. "I just can't stop seeing those kids. All those faces . . ."

"Good," Jim's tone stayed gentle, but it took on a strength behind the words. "It's on you to remember what it was like to snap out of it and see what you'd done. Forgive yourself, but don't forget."

"And if that's not enough?"

"Then _I'll_ stop you," He gave me a half smile. "Trust me, I know a thing or two about fighting Oranges."

And despite it all, we somehow found the strength to laugh.

"Thank you," I said. "For listening."

He stood, raising his arms to stretch his back. "All in a day's work of being the Trollhunter. Now, I'm gonna go do a lap or two around camp, and I think you should be getting some rest. You never know when you're going to need it."

A chuckle bubbled up from my throat, rising to my feet and shoving my hands into the pockets of my coat. "You're right. Good night, Jim."

He gave me a two-finger salute. "Night, Aja."

When I climbed back into the tent, I felt light, for the first time in what felt like a century. I felt free, but winded. Unchained but drained. So I crawled between Eli and Krel and settled down on the fleece padding. I was too tired to question if it was a bad idea or not. Too elated to care. So I closed my eyes and let myself fade into a sweet dream, with the image of my old academy and the whiny voice of the vice principle.

_Yes, but it's not like you can prove it._


	24. 24

**Error: Sister Not Found**

**(A/N): ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) YOU ALREADY KNOW WHAT IT IS **

When my eyes fluttered open, it was still dark outside.

I wasn't sure what had woken me at first, until I saw Jim sitting cross legged on the other side of the tent, his massive sword balanced over his legs while he used a small stone to sharpen the edge. The soft grinding noise had been enough to gradually pull me up.

His head lifted when he saw me shift, catching my open eyes. "Oh, hey," He winced, pausing his sharpening. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

I gave him a groggy shrug as I stretched. The little ball of fur beside me stayed quiet and still, expanding and deflating as he breathed. "Why aren't they waking up?"

Toby and Claire were curled up on either side of Jim, his grinding practically right against their ears. Yet, on they snored.

Jim shrugged. "They're used to it."

My eyes went from the Trollhunters to the Creepslayerz, Eli's leg kicking into Steve's side while Steve sprawled out on his stomach. The sight drew a small giggle from me.

"What time is it?"

Jim didn't look up from the blade. "Seven something."

I pushed my palms beneath me, sitting up fully as a blanket tumbled off my chest. It made me do a double take as I watched it fall. It wasn't mine. It was Krel's. He'd put it over me.

My eyes darted to his space next to mine. It was empty.

"Where's Krel?"

"He went out to take the last shift."

My eyes widened. A pit began forming in my stomach. "Alone?"

"He seemed jumpy," Jim replied. "And everyone else was pretty much knocked dead. Why? What's wrong?"

I bolted from my sleeping bag, rushing to the entryway of the tent. Ripping open the door, I thrust out my head out to look around. The campsite around us was completely still. Silent.

Empty.

The only evidence Krel had left behind was a pair of fresh footprints in what was left of the snow covering the trail.

"Damn it!" I slammed my hand down on the tent floor, scrambling for my boots. "Goddamn it!"

"What?" Jim's sword fell off his lap. "Is he -"

"He left, Jim!" I didn't mean to yell, but that's how the words came out. "He took off as soon as your back was turned! God, I knew I should've asked Steve to watch him. I knew, I knew, I _knew -"_

"I-I'm sorry," He leapt to his feet. "I didn't think he'd run - he didn't seem -"

"Oh, don't worry," I growled, yanking on my coat. "I'll get him back. Even if I have to drag the little shit by his ear."

I stomped out of the tent, barely noticing the cold with how hot my chest was. Every inch of me was absolutely fuming. What the hell was he thinking? To go off for a morning walk, still wearing Eli's coat, practically holding a neon sign for any trolls in the area?

For such a smart kid, this was a ridiculously stupid move.

I ground my feet in the snow alongside Krel's footprints and eventually onto the road. He couldn't have gotten far, so I continued up the hill after the snow and prints disappeared, gritting all my fury through my teeth. That bastard better be in one piece when I find him. If I have to save his sorry ass one more time, I swear -

The moment I saw the gas station, I knew he was there.

The glass doors were boarded up while the walls rusted with abandon. But I could see the open window. I could see how the snow gathered on the sill had been brushed aside. Recently.

Blowing one last, angry breath out of my nose, I pounded my feet towards it. Grabbing the cold bricks, I thrust myself through the window, dropping onto the cracked tile floor. The isles were eerily tilted and tipped in the dim light as the sun slowly rose. But the soft clicking sound drew me to the back.

A pair of double doors that had been set ajar long ago stood between me and the back room. Or maybe 'garage' would be a better title for it. The walls and floor were grey concrete, the grimey remnants of car pieces were scattered along it. The one and only table was pushed against the far wall, a crushed engine strewn out across it.

Krel was standing over it, neon and all.

His hands were working steadily on the machinery, carefully prying with a screwdriver and a wrench until he sensed me enter. He didn't even have to turn around. He just froze.

"What are you doing here?" I spat, folding my arms.

He was silent for several more seconds, then exhaled deeply through his nose, continuing his work again. "I could ask you the same thing."

I felt a line in my chest snap. _"Excuse_ me? Do you have any idea what could happen to you out here? Wearing something like that?"

"I wonder how many times your mother has said that to you."

My hands curled into fists. For a split second, all I could see was red. "What," I was almost too furious to form words, "is _wrong_ with you?"

He sighed, lowering his head slightly. As if that was good enough for an apology. "You know, I left for a reason," He finally said. "To get away from everything. From _you."_

My nails were beginning to cut into my palms.

"Look," I stalked around the table to at least see the side of his face. "I know you don't like me, okay? I get it. But that doesn't mean you can run off, risking everyone's lives so you can sit here and pout - what's so funny?"

The sound was more hoarse than anything, his hands bracing him on the table as he laughed. For the first time, I noticed how swollen and red his eyes were. He'd been crying.

"You . . ." He wheezed. "You think I don't _like_ you?"

I stared at him for a moment, wondering if this was even real anymore.

"Oh, my mistake," I put my hands over my chest. "Was it the constant silent treatment? Exploding over the simplest of things? Refusing to even sleep near me? And all the personalized insults?" I threw up my arms, spitting out the words. "Oh yes, you must _love_ me."

Krel's laughter had faded with my words, his bloodshot eyes staring holes into the car engine below him. "I think I might."

The words were barely above a whisper, so soft and raw. It was all it took for the air in the room to drop a few degrees. For the silence to become crushingly heavy. A petrifying rush flushed over me. I had to blink hard to keep the floor from swaying beneath me.

"Krel," I finally choked out. "You're barely over your illness. The roads are open now and we need to leave. Let's just get the others -"

"Are you serious?" He straightened up from the table, turning to face me. "I just said I might love you, and you don't even care?"

The words died in my throat. My mind was suddenly scrambling for something to say. Something the fill the silence as he stared me down. Something, if nothing else, to make this end.

For a split second I saw tears fill his eyes, then his hands were over them, scrubbing them back into his sockets as he leaned back against the table. "I'm losing my mind," He muttered.

"You're still sick," I found myself blurting. The sight of him nearly doubled over was almost too much to bear. "You're healing. I'm sure there's more medicine back at camp, so let's just -"

"I know you." His head lifted again, his eyes wild with pain. "And don't you dare tell me I don't, because I do. I _know_ I do."

Tears were burning behind my eyes now. Just seeing him like this. So broken and confused. So desperate. It was like being gutted alive.

"Krel . . ."

"But it's more than that," He said, his voice so broken. "I trust you. I - I _love_ you, everything inside me is telling me that I do - but it's not like how Jim loves Claire or how Toby loves Darci, it's different. I don't know how or why, but whatever this is, it's strong - God, it's _suffocating._ Clawing its way out of me until I can't breathe, I can't sleep, I can't even think straight. All I know is that I want to be around you, I want to hug you at the most irrational moments, I want to tell you things that I shouldn't - and I don't even _know_ you!"

"No, you don't," I spread my trembling hands. I never should've come after him. I should've left Jim to do it. "Please -"

"I don't even trust my friends that much!" He cried, throwing out his arms. "Do you know how long it took for me to believe in that golden-haired oaf? An entire summer and then some. But you . . ." He shook his head. I stared at his shoes. "You can just appear out of nowhere. All I have to do is look at you and . . . and it terrifies me. It terrifies me to know what I would do for you."

"Krel." I forced myself to stay standing. I forced myself to look him in the eye. "You're confused."

"You're damn right I am!" He shouted back. "I know you - I know your face, before you had the scar. Before all of this. I see you smile and I remember different smiles. And your eyes, even your voice -"

"I bear a strong resemblance to your father." I took a step back. Unattached. Professional. "That is all."

"No." Tears tracked down his face, half furious half terrified. "No, it's not. There's so much more."

"There isn't," I hissed. "You're exhausted and confused. You know nothing about me, Krel."

"But I do," He stepped forward, forcing me to take another one back. "I know you play with your hair when you're nervous. I know you speak in another voice when you need to be brave. I know you like to run away from things, but I - I know you always . . . you always come back . . ." His voice broke, and so did I.

I couldn't look at him. I couldn't take the anguish and agony in his eyes. Cold tears were pouring down my face. It couldn't be real. This had to be a nightmare. I'd taken those memories and buried them where he could never reach them.

_Not. Possible._

He came towards me in a blur, hands latching onto my arms in a vice grip. I tried to escape but my back hit the wall, Krel pinning me there as I desperately avoided his eyes. I couldn't - I couldn't take this. I couldn't _breathe._

"How do I know those things?" Krel gripped my arms tighter, making me squirm. "When I saw you walking into the woods, how did I know you were going to cry? How did I know you didn't want to be alone even if you did? Please, tell me I'm not crazy. Tell me who you are - who you _really_ are, please . . ."

I focused on the rough cement beneath our feet, studying the design to distract from the hellish pain ripping through me.

"But you can't, can you?" His voice took a different tone. Darker. Angrier. "You can't even look at me."

How could this be happening? How could this be real? How could he - how could I - I can't breathe - I can't breathe - _I can't breathe -_

His head dropped, his fingers digging into my skin till I was sure they were forming bruises.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," He whispered. "All I know is there's something inside me that knows you, and it won't stop tearing me apart. I'm losing my mind, and I don't know where it came from or why or how to make it stop."

Krel's hands unlatched from my arms all at once, coming to grip the sides of his head as he dropped to his knees. He tried gritting his teeth to keep the sobs in, but it wasn't enough. The sound tore into me worse than any White Noise ever had.

"Please, _please,"_ He begged, "just make this stop."

_Too much, too much, too much._

I was trembling when I finally pushed myself away from the wall. Seeing Krel there, crumpled and tortured. I wanted nothing more than to hold him, to cherish what little light was left inside him before I had broken it. Before I had ruined him, the way I ruin all the things I touch.

My legs were steadily numb as they carried me towards him, like they weren't even mine. I lowered down to my knees before him, reaching forward with the last of my strength. He looked up at me through tears, a flicker of hesitation - of fear - appearing in his eyes as I slid my fingers under his, cradling his head in my hands.

"I can't make it all go away, Krel." I pulled him forward, gently laying my scar over his. "Let me make it all go away."

I fell into his mind like a whisper. It was so easy. So practiced and familiar. This time, I'd do it right. I'd clear everything out. Take away all the pain. All the confusion. I'd force the broken pieces back into place without me. Without a sister. I could make it all go away. I could -

I could -

_What?_

Glass walls were suddenly being thrown at me. Everywhere I looked, everything I tried to grab, had a shield around it. Hands that felt more like gloves were snapping at me. Pushing back. Wrestling with me in a way I didn't know was possible.

Was Krel . . .

. . . fighting back?

More glass was being shoved at me, the broken pieces cutting and stinging. My hands scrambled for his filing cabinet, for the sealed box lying above it, but shards were stabbing me back. Krel's mind was spinning around me, and as good of a grip as I had on him, I couldn't slow it down.

It was like being trapped in a dryer, burning and tumbling and nauseating. I didn't know this could happen. I didn't know someone could keep struggling once I'd reached inside them. I didn't - I didn't -

My fingers dug into his mind, not caring how much to broken glass stung. I'd kick through a thousand of those walls if I had to. I was the Orange. I had the power. I could fix this.

So why didn't Krel stop fighting? How did he know how to block me. How did he know where to run?

_Stop,_ I told his mind. _Stop fighting me. Let me make it all go away._

His response was ragged and unclear, spinning faster around me in a way that split my head in two. It was so out of focus, so desperate and grating, I wondered if it was even him.

_GET OUT._

We were tumbling again, wrestling for any hold on him as both pairs of invisible hands ripped us back and forth. I felt hot blood run down my nose. I felt pain exploding behind my eyes. But I strained harder anyway. I needed that box. I needed -

I had it! The box was in my hands and all the memories were shining through. I could throw it away. Seal it far from Krel's filing cabinet, in a place it would never hurt. In a place it would be safe.

Glass swung out of nowhere, encasing the memories and ripping them away. I dove after the box anyway, gauging through the layers of glass he tirelessly threw up. It was a vicious game of tug of war, tearing and clawing at each other in ways that made my throat pull for a scream, but I barely heard the sound. I almost didn't hear Krel scream either.

I tore harder, stabbing at his mind like a knife. I had to get him down. I had to stop him from fighting before it was too much for him to handle. I had to get these memories away from him. I had to - I had to -

_LET ME MAKE IT ALL GO AWAY._

But then I pushed too hard, and the box burst open.

Krel shoved away from me, hard enough to slam my back into the wall again while he skidded across the concrete. My head was throbbing in a way that turned the world white, blood already drying under my nose. I forced my eyes to blink, forced my lungs to take in air. I knew how to handle this kind of pain. Krel, on the other hand, did not.

He was on all fours, gagging and retching, nothing but bile frothing past his lips. Blood was dripping from his nose. His breaths were coming in short, desperate gasps. Like his windpipe had closed off completely. Until he finally collapsed.

"Krel!"

The cry came out more as a moan than anything else as I forced myself forward, half crawling to his side. I shook his shoulder, blinking as hard as I could to keep my vision straight.

"Krel, it's alright," I panted. "Just breathe, it's alright."

Slipping my hand beneath his chest, I flipped him over onto his back, leaning him up against the leg of the table to have him sit up. He was still gasping for breath, his eyelids fluttering as he tried to open them. Electricity sparked between his fingers as they lay beside him. I didn't know whether or not to take it as a good sign.

I didn't know what had just happened either. I didn't know it was possible, or if I'd somehow imagined it all. People couldn't fight me when I was in their minds. I'd felt them try before, but it was like an ant fighting with a boot. It didn't work.

So what had Krel done? What had _I_ done?

Which one of us ended up with the box?

I put my hand aside his cheek, watching the haze gradually leave his eyes. Listening to him catch his breath. Feeling his pulse slowly throb into place. His twitching hand grabbed at mine, using it to tether him to reality. To pull himself back to the surface.

"It's okay, Krel," I promised. "I'm real, this is real. It will be okay."

A low groan rumbled from his throat, both hands going to his head. "Oh my . . . What the -" He finished the curse with a grunt, eyes squeezing shut as he dug his fingers into his hair.

"It's alright," I said. "Only breathe for now. In and out."

He followed my instructions until his eyes could open again, darting over the walls and back again. As if they couldn't decide what to focus on.

"What . . .?" He grunted, pushing to sit up more. "Where . . .?"

When his eyes fell to me, something changed.

"Wait," He breathed.

He peeled his hands from his head, examining his palms before running them the length of his neck. His brows pinched together at the faded scars he found. The 'X's carved there months ago.

Then his fingers were on his arm, yanking up the sleeve and grazing over his elbow. He was looking for an IV mark.

Oh no.

"You . . ." His eyes lifted back to mine. "You pushed the button."

Oh God, please no.

"I-I got sick." Krel prodded his fingers against his neck, feeling the tiny scar the syringe had left behind. "We - We were with the _League."_

Not yet.

"We were going to be okay." There were tears in his eyes. "We were going to be - but then . . . but then . . ."

I knew the exact moment he realized what I'd done. The shock. The fear. Behind it all, a fury I'd never seen before slowly trickling in. Something that made his eyes dark and his nostrils flare. Something that stung worse than any glass wall.

Hatred.

"I can explain," I blurted. He didn't care.

His hands latched onto the rim of the table, throwing himself to his feet and staggering to the door. I don't know if he knew where he was going, just away from me.

"Krel, please -" I jumped up after him, catching his arm as we reached the entryway. He ripped it back.

"I told you," He hissed, "to _stop_. Why didn't you stop?"

My throat caught. "I -"

"I pushed you away," He said. "I told you no, but you - you didn't care. You - oh my God," He threaded his fingers through his hair again, leaning against the wall. "How could you? How _could you?"_

"Krel," I pleaded. "You need to sit down -"

"You took it all away." He pushed away from me, crashing into one of the isles in the gas station. "You were _inside my head_ \- you made me forget, like you even had the right to do it. Like you thought it would be okay. How - _how could you!"_

"How could I not?" I threw back. "You know what the League would've done to you! How else was I supposed to protect you?"

_"Protect me?"_ Krel looked disgusted. "You think this is _protecting?"_

"I had to get you out of the League - it was all I could do to make you leave!"

"You . . ." His fury was suddenly coated in tears, a broken heart showing through the anger. "You wanted me to leave?"

"I wanted you alive!" I cried. "I could give you up if it meant you could walk away. Your life is worth that."

"Give me up?" Tears trailed down his face, his voice going thick. "You think that was your decision to make? That you had the _right_ to reach inside me, to take _my_ memories, and leave me on my _own?"_

I swallowed, narrowing my eyes at the floor. I tried scrambling for words, but my mind was numb.

"And you would've just left me like that?" Krel threw out his arms. "You saw what it was doing to me, and you didn't even care?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe," I whispered, my voice too hoarse to be raised. I did what it took to keep you from Zeron, and I'd do it again."

Now there was only horror in his eyes. "I . . ." He breathed. "I really mean that little to you?"

I blinked. "You mean everything to me. You're my brother."

"So you can just throw me away?" He asked. "Like Seamus did?"

That knocked the breath right out of my lungs.

A loud _crack_ had our heads whipping towards the door from across the store. The wooden boards nailed over the glass doors splintered apart in a shower of sparks, the entryway swinging open to reveal Jim standing there.

"Guys," He panted as he hung his sword on his back again. "It's time to go - uh, are you . . . okay?"

We both turned away from him, wiping at the tears on our cheeks and the blood under our noses. My arms latched around my middle to keep myself together as I stared at the cracked tiles. Krel turned away just as fast, his eyes blank with rage as he ran through every broken memory he had left.

"We're fine," I lied. It sounded like a whimper.

I don't know how long Jim stood there watching us, all I know is that it was torturously long. Torturously silent. Until he finally said, "The roads are cleared up, we need to get out of here."

I didn't look up from the floor. "We'll be out in a minute."

He hesitated at first, but then I heard his footsteps crunching back through the snow. And he was gone.

More silence. So much, I wondered if I could suffocate in it.

"You're not even sorry." I looked up at the words, finding Krel's dark eyes as they filled with bitter tears. "Are you?"

_I had to get away._

"We can talk about this later," I choked out. And I turned towards the open door.

_"What?"_

I heard Krel stomping after me. I heard him shouting my name. But I couldn't stop. I couldn't stay where I couldn't breathe.

I pushed out into the cold air, my boots crunching in the snow. I saw the car parked at the crest of the hill. I saw Steve and Eli leaning out the front door. I saw Jim and Toby standing a few paces away to talk. I saw a blur of Krel's hand as he ripped my arm back.

"No, Aja," He shouted, whipping me around. "We're not talking about this later, we're talking about it now."

"Oh no," I heard Eli mutter behind me.

"You left me on my own - you took away the last family I had!" Krel spat. "And you're not even _sorry?"_

Something hot in my chest snapped.

"The League tortured you, Krel!" I wrenched my arm back, stabbing a finger into his collar. "Like hell I was ever letting them touch you again!"

His gaze felt like fire. "You could've given me a choice!"

"There wasn't any time!"

_"Argh!"_

Krel dove into me, crashing us into the snow with enough force to send us rolling down the incline. His hands fisted around my collar as the world spun into a blur, throwing me over him extra hard with each turn.

When my palms and his heels finally caught the snow and we came to a stop, I barely had time to stop the world from swaying before Krel slammed his fist into my cheek. Once. Twice. Again and again as he straddled me, pinning me down with his weight.

After the fourth hit, I'd had enough.

Rearing back with a scream, I threw my knee up his ribs and cracked my elbow against his jaw hard enough to knock him to the side. Then we were rolling again, grappling and tearing at each other until I could finally pin him beneath me and throw a few punches of my own.

How could he act like this? How could he _not_ understand?

With a howl, Krel flipped us over again, the world tumbling as the rough snow grated against any exposed skin. Fists went flying even as we rolled. Fingernails digging. Hands choking. Feet kicking and pounding.

Spots of blood splattered against the white snow. I felt the warm liquid spread across my nose, across my hands as I battered them against Krel's face. But it wasn't anywhere near as warm as the rage collapsing my chest.

Suddenly, hands were on us - between us. Prying us apart as we tore at each other. Toby and Darci had a hold of both Krel's arms as they dragged him off me, Jim and Steve gripping my shoulders and torso to keep me down.

"I trusted you!" Krel screamed, blood smeared down his face as he lurched against their arms. "I can't believe I trusted you!"

The words were enough for us to freeze, for me to stop seeing red and only hear my own blood rushing in my ears. Enough for Krel to rip free from Toby and Darci's embrace.

"I knew - God, I _knew,"_ He rasped, towering over me, "you would never go through my mind like that. You would never cross that line. Never."

My chest was being crushed. My ribcage was caving in and my lungs were shriveling to nothing. Looking into his eyes was like putting hot iron through me, but I couldn't bring myself to look away.

"And I was _so sure_ you wouldn't leave me on my own again. Not after everything we've been through." He scoffed, bitter tears in his eyes. "But I was wrong about you. You're just like Seamus, you're just like Varvatos."

I couldn't suck in, my chest was too tight.

"You're a traitor."

Shoving past Toby, he stormed back up the hill, leaving what was left of me far behind him.

Steve was trying to say something, but I didn't hear it. I didn't hear anything. My mind could only latch onto one, sinking revelation: all of my effort, all the pain and sacrifice, had been for nothing. How far I had gone to keep him safe. How much I'd given up to keep him out of this. All of it wasted. Worthless.

I failed. And because of it, I lost my little brother.

For real this time.

**(A/N): so . . .**

**thoughts, anyone?**


	25. 25

***Awkward Silence***

Steve tried carrying me to the car, but I pushed out of his arms. I had to walk on my own. I had to use my own strength, even if I had none left. If the others were talking, I couldn't hear. The sound of my heartbeat alone was deafening. Anything else was nothing but static.

The passenger door jostled me when I closed it, Steve's eyes burning into me as he climbed into the driver's seat. The car tilted as everyone took their places. I didn't even need to look to know where Krel was. In the back, at the far right.

As far from everyone as possible.

I zeroed in on the snowy hills breezing passed us, watching the world through a thin sheet of glass and letting everything fall away with it. The tears burned like fire. My newfound split lip felt like a second brand. But it was all gentle touches compared to the shrapnel knocking around inside me.

_What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?_

Eli touched my shoulder.

I rolled my head back to see him, watching his lips move more than listening to the whisper. "What happened?"

My lips trembled. "I don't know."

"You didn't mean to do it," He breathed, voice barely audible. "You didn't meant to make him remember."

I shook my head, biting my tongue to keep in the sob.

"So you knew about this." I didn't realize how thick the silence was until Krel spoke. "All of you did."

Everyone in the car went stiff. Jim and Claire swallowed as they pulled closer to each other, eyes planted beneath the middle bench they occupied. Toby and Darci scooted a little closer to the opposite window from Krel. Steve's knuckles went white around the steering wheel.

Krel's tone was numbingly cold. "And you called yourselves my friends."

Eli whipped around at the words, but Krel was already staring out his respective window, pretending not to see the tears in Eli's eyes. It made me want to start spitting the shrapnel.

"Don't get mad at them." I craned myself around the seat. "They didn't -"

"Don't," Krel snapped, "talk."

I dug my fingernails into the vinyl. "Don't act like you can order me around."

"Oh, like you?" He leaned forward, grabbing the head of the seats in front of him. "Ordering people to do whatever you want? Go wherever you want them to go? Who cares what they think? You obviously know better."

My breath seethed. "That is not what I did -"

"It's not?" Krel looked appalled. "That is exactly what you did."

"Krel," Jim turned to look at him. "We didn't know what -"

"Stay out of this, Trollhunter!"

"How are we supposed to stay out of this?" Toby threw up his hands. "We're stuck in car together."

"Unfortunately," Claire muttered.

"You all lied to me!" Krel exploded. "Like you even had a place in this from the beginning!"

"I said not to get mad at them!" I lurched over the seat. "If you want to be mad, you can be mad at me, alright? They lied because _I_ asked them to. None of them wanted to, especially not Eli and Steve."

His eyes flared. "Doesn't change the fact that they did."

No one spoke. No one moved. It was suffocating.

"Figures," Krel folded his arms. "I've always known they liked you better than me. Everybody does."

He might as well have put a knife through Eli's back. "How could you say that?"

"How can you expect me not to?" He threw back.

"This wasn't about picking favorites," Jim tried one last time. "Please understand, we did this because -"

"As nice as the sentiment is," Krel interrupted. "This isn't your fight, so get the hell off your high horse."

"Krel!" I scolded.

"Shut up," He shouted back. "You're not allowed to talk to me like that anymore."

All the breath was sucked from my lungs. He once said those exact words to Varvatos, the day we realized what he'd done to us.

_You're just like Seamus, you're just like Varvatos._

"We kept up the charade because we wanted to protect you," Eli blurted, his voice breaking. "Aja told us about the League -"

"Oh, did she?" Krel snapped. "She told you all her reasons and have all of you hooked on her excuses?"

_"Excuses?"_ I threw out my hand desperately. "It's the truth, Krel!"

"So that makes everything you did okay?" Tears began gathering again. "That gives you permission to gut out my mind? To abandon me again?"

"How can you not understand this?" I asked. "I wasn't going to let them hurt you again!"

"So that makes it okay for you to take away my choice?" The torturous fire was back in his eyes. "Did you not think this through at all? You honestly thought I'd be safe on my own in this God forsaken country? Apparently you did. And you were so sure of yourself, I now have the scar to prove it."

"Don't talk to me about scars," I tried to hiss out the words, but my voice was too broken.

"Too bad," He spat back. "I have this damn mark because of you. Because you thought the _wide world_ was somehow safer than staying with my family. This is your fault, Aja! Do you even know who gave it to me?"

"Yes!" I pounded my fist into the seat. "And I destroyed him for it!"

Krel went silent, taken aback. Darci pinned her lips together beside him. Jim rubbed his hands over his eyes. Eli and Steve became very pale.

"You did," Krel said, "what?"

I swallowed. "I ripped his mind apart. I left him with nothing."

Pure horror painted over his features. A kind of fear I'd never seen on him before. How he recoiled, how the tears began gathering fresh. It was like he didn't recognize me at all.

"You did . . . _what?"_

"He deserved it," I found myself saying.

"Who the hell are you to decide that?" His voice jumped in volume, thick with salt. "Who the hell are you to go around destroying anyone in your way? As some demented puppetmaster?"

"He needed to be stopped!" I defended.

"There are other ways to stop people!" He was trembling, whether with horror or rage, I didn't know. "The Aja I knew understood that."

I raised a warning eyebrow. "You think you can give me a lesson in morality?"

"Obviously, you need one."

"That's rich coming from you, Krel," I threw back. "Especially after what you did to your team."

It was a low blow. More than that, it was a moment of weakness. I was too angry to think about the words before throwing them out. Too hurt and desperate to make him understand. But one look at Krel's face, and I knew it was ten steps over the line.

He could only stare back at me for several moments, his lips parted in shock. He was barely breathing, none of us were. I wanted to fill the crushing silence, but I had run out of words. So I stubbornly stared back instead.

"Stop the car." Krel's voice was hoarse. Too soft and broken for Steve to hear.

"What?"

"I said," He growled. "Stop. The. _Car."_

It was more than a growl. It was more than a command. The sheer force behind his tone made my skin bristle. I'd never heard him talk so sharply. Like he was barely keeping a bomb from exploding. I'd never seen him like this at all.

What had I done to him?

It took Steve all of two seconds to realize Krel wasn't joking before he slammed on the breaks. The car skidded through the snow, screeching to a stop at the edge of the road. By then, Krel was already out of his seat, flinging the door open, and climbing out. Stomping directly into the woods ahead.

I didn't move from where I'd positioned myself, staring at the back window instead of Krel's face. My jaw was stubbornly set, no apologies in my eyes. My mind was suddenly flying through all the horrible things he'd thrown at me. It was only fair for me to throw some back. He had it coming.

_Who the hell are you to decide that?_

Even though I wasn't looking any of them in the eye, I knew every single person in the car was looking at me. They wanted an explanation. A fill to the silence. But I had no more words. No more patience. So I turned around and glared into the dashboard, furiously twisting a strand of hair between my knuckles.

"I'll get him," Eli finally said, climbing over Claire and Jim to get to the door. Steve gave it several seconds before opening his own door.

"I'll go with you."

I didn't watch them trudge off into the unknown, instead listening to their slapping footsteps in the slush. It took around thirty seconds for us to begin hearing the shouts.

Behind me, Toby sighed. "Do we even have time for this?"

"Relax, TP," I heard Darci reply. "The guy deserves a time out."

Claire leaned over Jim to peek out the window. "They're gonna get us all caught," She whispered.

I glared harder into the dash.

"He knows that," Darci said. "He just . . . needs to blow off some steam."'

"Could he blow it off a little faster?" Toby asked. "We need to get out of here."

"Chill out Tobes," Jim replied.

"You're asking _me_ to chill out?" Toby scoffed. "They're the ones having a screaming match."

"Dude," Claire hissed. "Could you be a little more sensitive?"

"Sensitive to what?" He asked. "The fact that we gotta split before we all wind up back in Caledonia?"

The bickering seemed to burst out of them, back and forth, overlapping, never ending. Releasing the strand, I dug my hands over my ears to drown it out. But the words were only getting sharper and sharper, Jim's continuous efforts to quiet them only getting louder.

I fisted my hands in my hair and bent over my lap. There was a coil in my chest, getting tighter and tighter until I couldn't breathe. Until I wanted to cave in on myself.

_I have to get away. I have to get away. I have to get away -_

The door swung open with enough force to rock the car. I didn't hear Krel say anything, only Toby and Darci scooting away almost on instinct. Eli crawled in slower, sniffling a little as he curled up against the far window. Steve made his way around the car heavily, his shoulders hunched under an invisible weight.

"Let's just go before we waste anymore time," Jim mumbled.

Krel inhaled sharply, and I knew he was close to snapping. "You're angry at me for _wasting time?_ After everything all of you have _done?"_

The argument exploded again, bickering and shouting and backpedaling and overlapping until it was nothing but a muddled pile of noise. The coil in my chest was stretching me farther than I could take. The hands over my ears were useless to block out the screaming, especially when half of it was coming from inside my head.

My head had somehow wound up between my knees by the time Steve started blaring the horn.

_HONK - HONK - HONK_

It was enough for everyone to finally shut up.

"Can we all just pretend that we're friends?" Steve shouted over the seat. "That we don't want to tear each other's throats out? For _five minutes?"_

No one replied.

With a sigh, he turned back around in his seat and started the car again. The silence fell even thicker than before. Like cotton balls being shoved down my throat. Barely two minutes dragged by before Darci spoke up again.

"Somehow," She said, "this is worse."

Without a word, Steve punched the radio dial, blasting _We Are Family_ by Sister Sledge through the speakers.

I made it about three seconds before stabbing the dial myself. I didn't care what it landed on. Anything but that.

_"- you just can't replicate the balance between diet, exercise, and education that's exhibited in these camps. They are mandatory for a reason."_

Anything but that and this.

Another stab at the radio and the station landed on a new voice: _"- Children's League issued this statement about the Christmas Summit -"_

"Good _God,"_ I growled under my breath, reaching to shut it off before Eli lurched forward and caught my hand.

_"We do not believe the peace Morando is trying to prescribe is in anyone's best interest but his own. If this false meeting of the minds is to take place, it will ruin the good work that common American citizens have done to rebuild the lives he shattered. We will not sit idly by while the truth is buried under heaps of his lies. The time to act is now, and we will."_

That was the voice of one of the senior staff members. Which one? I didn't know and didn't care. I was getting pretty damn sick of this political poetry.

_"I think it's fairly obvious,"_ The voice switched back to the anchor. _"The Children's League is speaking out of fear that American citizens will no longer tolerate their acts of terrorism once peace and order are restored."_

"She's got a point," Steve muttered.

Eli smacked his shoulder. "Shh!"

_"I have Senator Robert Joannes of Oregon on the line to discuss how the Federal Coalition will be approaching the Unity Summit - Robert? Are you there?"_

There was a burst of static, waves up and down until yet another voice settled through.

_"Hello, yes - Kathleen? Sorry about that. Our signal strength in California hasn't -"_

His voice wavered through the signal.

_"- for the last few months."_

"So it is true," Eli said to himself.

Jim leaned over to see him. "So what's true?"

"Something the other Greens talked about when we were in the League," He said. "The cell towers and satellites in California are becoming faulty for some reason, no matter how many times we tried fixing them. The senior staff suspected that Morando was tampering with them."

"Sounds about right," Toby replied.

"Can you turn it up?" Jim asked.

_"- the draft, will also be a major discussion, especially in hearing plans of phasing it out. Specifically for the Psi Special Forces program -"_

Everyone seemed to lean forward all at once. Steve cranked the volume.

_"Will you also be discussing the rehabilitation camps?"_ The anchor asked, sounding more smug than inquisitive. _"There's been such a lack of information released about the status of the programs and the children who were entered into them. As a new mother myself, I think I speak for all parents when I say we only want answers."_

_"Right now,"_ The senator replied. _"Our focus is on discussing what plans we'd like to see President Morando enact to stimulate the economy and reopen talks with our former international partners."_

_"Is Psi not included in all of those issues?"_ The anchor's tone made me raise an eyebrow. _"How can an event so catastrophic, so devastating that it caused all our current events, be so carelessly pushed aside? Along with all the American citizens, the vast majority of which are under the age of eighteen, it has affected?"_

"I like her," Claire said.

I agreed.

_"You, as an elected spokesperson of the people, have a responsibility to at the very least ask the President to come clean about what research programs are in place and whether or not they've made progress. What else do we know about IAAN? Why are parents forbidden from seeing their surviving children? What about the children that are not yet old enough to show symptoms of Psi? When will the weekly testing and monitoring stop being enough and parents will have no choice but to, yet again, graduate their children into rehabilitation camps?"_

_"I believe the FC would like to modify the program,"_ The senator sounded very nervous now. _"It is necessary, of course, for -"_ More static. _"- dangers of those afflicted with Psi are a much larger concern than the dangers to them -"_

"Bullshit!" Darci shouted.

_"But where are our answers?"_ The anchor snapped. _"Hiding the information and activities of not only a mandatory but such a wide spread program is frightful and unacceptable."_

_"I understand - you see - dangerous side effects of IAAN -"_ The mans' voice was only getting choppier and choppier. _"- as much as we would like to send them home - must think of the population - our priorities are inline with -"_

Click.

That quick, and the line was cut off. The anchor continued to repeat his name, as if that would somehow bring him back up from the static.

"Guess the mystery remains," Eli muttered.

"At least the League's not a mystery," Steve replied.

"Are you really going back to them?" I didn't expect to hear Krel's voice, but I knew it couldn't be anyone else's. "After everything, you're honestly going back?"

It took me a moment to realize he was talking to me.

"I have to finish this," I said. I didn't turn to look at him.

"What are you talking about?" He asked. "In all your efforts to protect me from the League, have you never thought about who's going to protect you?"

I finally craned my neck around the seat, looking him in the eye. "What do you -?"

"You've defected just as many times as me," Krel said, eyes wide with astonishment. "You've caused more trouble than I ever could. And you're just . . . going back?"

My fingers dug into the seat beneath me, my eyes burning with unshed tears. "I have," I said, "to finish this."

"Aja," He leaned forward. "They'll kill you."

A bit of the tension left my fingers. "If they could kill me," I gave a humorless laugh, "they would've done it three months ago when I set the gym on fire."

Eli perked up, his curious eyes raising to mine. "So that was you."

"Yes," I said, catching the look in Krel's eye as I did. He was almost in a daze, the memory flickering over his numbed features. But he blinked and it was gone. He was confused again, confused and angry and hurt. He looked away. "But it's not like you can prove it."


	26. 26

**The Drunk Science Project**

**(A/N): and ya'll thought i was gonna forget about notenrique too huh?**

**pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff**

**jk i love all yas 3**

It was a good two hours before Darci had the courage to ask where we were going.

"We're rendezvousing with Blinky," Claire held up the phone Merlin had given them. "A place outside of Nashville we've been crashing."

"Another Trollmarket?"

It took several seconds for her to answer. "Not yet."

I let the hum of the car put me to sleep to escape the mess I'd made for the next few hours. I could never sleep for much longer than that. The car would swerve too hard on a turn, bounce on the breaks, even brush the edges of a tree branch, and my eyes would fly open.

I pretended I was asleep anyway, not wanting questions or answers or anything. I only wanted to escape, even for just a little while.

When the stiffness in my back and legs commanded me to sit up, I rubbed my eyes to see a darkened sky, stars sprinkled across it. The radio clock glew green in the dark: 12:54 am.

I sighed as I stretched, finally noticing that Jim was in the driver's seat. Steve, on the other hand, was snoring loudly beside Claire. Most of the car had fallen asleep in fact. Darci and Toby curled up together. Claire lying on her side with her head in Eli's lap and her feet across Steve's knees. Even Luug had curled up under the seats - where he'd been hiding during our argument. But Eli and Krel were awake.

Eli was staring blankly ahead, probably watching a movie in his head again. Krel on the other hand was leaned back in his seat, jaw clenched and feet raised on the headrest of the bench in front of him as he stared out the window. His eyes were puffy and red from crying. His hands were shaking as he wrung them in his lap.

I willed myself to not be sorry.

"Are we still going to Nashville?" I whispered to Jim, not wanting to break the delicate quiet.

"It's actually a place right outside of Nashville," He replied. "It's called Rural Hill, just another small town that went belly up. We should be there by morning."

"But don't you still have one more thing on Merlin's list to find?"

"Yeah," He shrugged. "But we're not having any luck on our own, so we're hoping Blinky or Merlin might be able to help us out."

I nodded, letting myself space out to the rhythm of Sweet Caroline as it came through the radio's speakers.

"Uh, Aja?"

"Hm."

Jim hesitated. "Are you okay?"

I almost couldn't breathe for a moment. "Do you need another driver?"

He tilted his head from side to side. "Maybe in a couple hours."

I put my feet up on the dash and leaned back again.

"There are a few granola bars left," Jim said. "Are you hungry?"

"I'm fine."

"Well, if you're ever not," His voice went softer. "You can always let me know."

Even just a hint of a smile was painful, but I gave it to him anyway. Then I turned away.

We switched places around four o'clock, Jim near passing out before he'd even bothered with the seat belt. I had to kick Claire awake to give me some directions.

The sun was rimming the horizon when we finally reached our destination. An old brick and mortar building that looked on the verge of collapse. Mildew and mold clung to the sides. The grass surrounding it grew wild and thick. Every window was smashed, but within, I could almost catch the light of a TV screen.

"It's . . ." I rubbed my eyes. "A library?"

"Huh?" Jim stirred a little. "Oh . . . yeah, book building. Yep." And he was out again.

I eyed the building once more before turning back to the other occupants of the car. Krel was still the only one awake, staring out the window with a mix of wariness and curiosity.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" For the first time since the argument, he turned to look me in the eye. "Get out."

I dug my fingernails into my palms to distract from the sting.

My joints were jelly and my muscles were weak when I stepped out of the car, nearly stumbling on the cracked sidewalk. I had to lean on the door to close it, the ground feeling very uncertain beneath me. How can you be motion sick while not in motion?

The steps leading up to the entrance were so crumbled and mauled by time, it was more like hiking than walking. The doors themselves were boarded shut, but I recognized a familiar cut burned right down the center of the wood.

It smelled like mildew and dust, the only light from the gleam of daylight reflecting off the dusty shards of broken glass. It was still. Dark. But not exactly quiet.

"Look! Look!" A voice down the hall echoed. "I did a barrel roll!"

The voice that replied didn't say any words, more of a grunt in approval.

"Ah, now I see why Tobias is so engaged in this! The adrenaline is more than just intriguing!"

I wandered forward out of the large and long abandoned foyer to a hallway, curving down to an even bigger room. This one was lined with broken shelves, the wood rotted through long ago. Books caked with dust and grime were scattered among the tipped shelves. With the dim light, mildew, and aged wreckage before me, the place looked more like a tomb than a library.

But up ahead, I could see the flashing glow of a screen.

"Oh, how fascinating!" The voice continued to laugh.

"Wingman approves." The second voice made me freeze a little. It was far deeper. Harsher. But somehow still gentle.

My shoulder brushed against the corner of the wall, leaning me around to see -

"What you think you're doin!"

A sharp pain cracked against the back of my head, catching me off guard enough to knock me across the threadbare carpet. I flipped myself over, jerking up onto my palms to view my attacker. But all I saw was a blur of green, then another wack at my temple, and a burst of pressure on my chest.

"Oi! Mr. More-Eyes-Than-Brains! We got a flesh-bag over here!"

I knew the body currently stradling my chest was tiny, but I didn't know how tiny until I wrestled the dictionary away from my face.

I froze.

"You're . . ." I started. "You are a child."

"And what?" The boy spat back. "You're a mature adult? How'd you find this joint, flesh-bag!"

His blond hair was matted and shaggy, hanging over his wild, brown eyes. His cheeks were covered with dirt and freckles. He was missing the left of his front teeth - and one of his canines. He was barely more than three feet tall. Couldn't have been older than seven.

"Enrique!"

A familiar brown blazer came running around the corner.

"Unhand that young woman!"

"The hell should I?"

"Number one," All it took was one push and the boy's wiry frame went flying off me, "I am not a flesh-bag. My name is Aja."

"Yes, Miss Tarron," Blinky stooped down to offer me his hand. It seemed as though he hadn't changed a bit. "How wonderful it is to see you again."

I nodded back at him, rubbing the new sore spot on my temple.

"Are Jim and the others with you?" He asked, giving my hand a firm shake.

"Wingman here?"

The voice made me backup a step, but the person that rounded the corner made me freeze. Another man. A thick beard took over most of his chin, leading through sideburns into a mop of hair. The mane continued down his neck and even across his arms. A plaid shirt was wrapped over his enormous shoulders, the sweat pants he wore pulling short.

He towered over every shelf in the room, tipped or not.

"Ah, Miss Aja," Blinky gestured back to the man. "Allow me to introduce you to my brother in arms, Aarghaumont."

Tha man dipped his massive head. "AAARRRGGHH!."

I thought for certain he was screaming until Blinky added, "For short."

The man held up two fingers. "Three 'R's."

The little giggle that pulled out of me was more an exhale than anything, but it was a surprise anyway. And he laughed back, deep and resonating, like when you pluck a base string. Extending a massive arm, he hooked a section of my hair over his meaty finger, admiring it in the light. I wondered if he'd ever seen anyone with hair so light.

"Aja Tarron," I replied, somehow feeling another laughing building in my throat. "Only two 'R's."

"Very white," AAARRRGGHH! hummed. "Very blue."

"You can say that again," The boy muttered behind me.

"Wait," My eyes windened, my hair falling from AAARRRGGHH!'s fingers. Suddenly Jim's voice was echoing back in my mind. AAARRRGGHH! was my friend. We had to leave him behind.

I looked at Blinky. "You . . . found him again?"

AAARRRGGHH! chuckled deeply. "Big and tall. Hard to miss."

It was official, his smile made mine easier.

A familiar yipping behind me was the only warning before Luug nuzzled against my ankles. His little snout went back and forth through the air, sniffing the place out. And how many interesting scents he must've discovered.

"There's another one?" The boy groaned from where he sat on the floor. "You gotta be shitting me."

It took me a moment to realize the 'other one', was not Luug. Krel was standing in the door with a blank face, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his bloodshot eyes squinting at everything.

"Mister Krel," Blinky beamed. "You've made it as well! Of course, Claire notified us that you two were coming, but it is good to see you well all the same."

Krel gave him a numb nod. "It's good to see you, too."

The boy lounged back on one hand, using his other to lift a water bottle from the filthy green sweatshirt he wore. It looked oddly like a baby bottle. And when he took a drink, he was sucking it. Like a baby bottle.

I tried very hard not to stare.

"So you actually know these weirdos?" He asked.

Krel raised an eyebrow. "We're the weird ones?"

"We're friends of Jim's," I said. "Him and everyone else are sleeping in the car."

"So you're with the tin man," He took another swig from the bottle. "Good to know."

Krel's gaze turned to a glare. "Who are you, again?"

"You're Enrique," I said, before he'd even had a chance to detach his lips from the bottle. "Or, well . . ."

"That's Not-Enrique to you," He snarled, glancing at my coat. "Sparkles."

I narrowed my eyes. "My name is Aja."

"Whatever."

"Does the building's plumbing still work?" Krel snapped the question, rather than asking it.

Blinky stilled at his bluntness, then nodded. "The bathroom is down the hall."

He didn't even nod before turning to walk away. It made anger prickle in my chest once again.

"So you as boring as the tin man?" 'Not'-Enrique asked.

I opened my mouth to reply, but Krel beat me to it.

"Doesn't matter," He said. "She won't be staying long." And he stomped around the corner. Several seconds later, we heard a door slam.

It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. Krel was right, to get the intel back to Zadra and Varvatos I would have to leave soon. So why was I suddenly blinking back tears? A gentle hand fell on my shoulder and I turned to see Blinky's gentle smile. A smile I didn't deserve.

NotEnrique wiggled his eyebrows. "Trouble in paradise, eh?"

"Krel is my brother."

Water shot straight out the boy's nose.

"Holy shit!" He cried, dropping the bottle and grabbing his face. "That burns! Oh God, it burns! Holy hell - shit, shit!"

I leaned back a little, wondering how it was possible to have the voice of a smoker from New York City, and the face of a second grader.

"It's just water," I said.

"Unfortunately," Blinky came to stand behind me, both hands on my shoulders. "It is not 'just water'."

That's when the smell hit me.

"Drunk science project," AAARRRGGHH! grumbled. My eyebrows went into my hairline.

"Well, it's good to see you can still swear like a sailor."

All our heads whipped towards the entryway to find Jim standing there, his massive sword secured to his back.

"Master Jim!" Blinky cried, throwing up his arms in greeting. AAARRRGGHH! came forward too, but didn't get quite as excited until Toby came around the corner.

"Wingman!" And he crushed him in a hug.

The rest of our little group trickled in one by one, continuing the happy reunion. It was all hugs and smiles - Claire giving her 'not'-brother a hard punch in the arm as greeting. I stood at the outskirts of it all, pretending to be very focused on a shelved book while awkwardly rubbing my arm.

Eventually, Eli came to tap my shoulder. "Come on," He nodded towards the back of the building. "We need to talk about some things."

As relieved as I was to finally have something else to focus on, there was only dread in my stomach as we made our way to the back room. It was separated from the main part of the library with a pair of double doors and a staircase.

It was almost like a porch, the entire back wall made up of shattered windows. The wind blew in bitterly cold, but soft enough to tolerate. Bits of snow clung to the edges of the furniture, old leather chairs, more shelves, even a cabinet.

"What do you need?" I asked, pushing my hands into the pockets of my coat.

"Zadra messaged us," He replied, holding out my Chatter. "She wants to meet."

My brows pinched together. "Meet? Here?"

"No," He held up the screen. "But not far. She sent us the coordinates."

"Why would she want to meet us?" I shook my head. "She knows I'm coming back."

Eli shrugged. "We are going from Boston to California. She probably thinks we could use some help."

"Still," I took the Chatter in my hands. "It doesn't feel right. We must be running out of time."

"Whatever it is," Eli replied. "We'll figure it out when we meet up. It's really not far. We can go tonight."

I glanced up at him. "'We'? As in, you're coming back with me?"

He snorted. "We're all coming back with you, Aja. Did you really think we were gonna split up again?"

I cleared my throat. "I guess I'll go talk to Jim about getting more fuel then." I tried ducking my head and escaping out the door, but Eli grabbed my arm.

"Wait," He said. "What about . . . what about Krel?"

Hot dread sunk in my stomach.

"What happened, Aja? If you didn't mean to give him back his memories, how did he get them?"

I didn't turn around to look at him, so he rounded me instead.

"Come on, Aj." His glasses reflected the light from the windows, the crack in lenses showing starkly. "You can tell me."

"I don't know," I finally choked out, my chest aching with pressure. "I just . . . I don't know."

"What do you mean?" Eli shook his head. "How can you not know?"

My fists clenched. "I mean I don't -"

Eli held up his hands. "Tell me what happened, alright? Start there."

I had to take a deep inhale through my nose, staring holes into the threadbare carpet below us. "He was hurting," My voice went raw. "What I'd done, it hurt him so badly . . . I didn't even think - I didn't know it did that."

"He knew you," Eli whispered.

"A part of him still did," I croaked. "It was like I didn't do it completely - or maybe I never did it at all. But it hurt him - I hurt him, and I thought I could fix it. I thought I could make it go away."

He leaned back. "What did you do?"

"I went into his head again." It hurt so much more to admit than I thought it would. "I wanted to fix it. To do it completely -"

"Not give his memories back?"

I blinked. "It's still not safe."

His mouth hung open instead of replying, eyes wide in shock and disbelief. His hands balled into fists, a shaky, angry breath sucking into his lungs.

"How could you think -" He finally managed. "How could you - Aja, you messing with his brain got us into this mess. And you thought doing more of it would help? 'Make it go away'? Are you serious?"

Tears seared in my eyes. "I just wanted him to stop hurting."

"Really?" Eli was on the verge of crying too. "You honestly expect me to believe that?"

The words were punch in the gut - the way he looked at me alone made me want to fold in on myself. To just, stop existing. There was still a part of me saying he didn't understand. He didn't know the danger or the risk Krel and I were always under. He didn't know the peril we'd inherited.

But then all the times Eli had defended me flashed before my eyes. And everything inside me went silent.

"What else do you want me -"

"You're sure that going into his head wasn't just about him?" Eli spat. "That maybe, it was about you, too?"

I shook my head, tears obstructing my vision. "I don't know -"

"You went into his head because you panicked," Eli's voice rose with every word. "Because you didn't want to be caught. You didn't want him to know what you'd done to him because you didn't want to admit that you were wrong!"

Hot tears poured down my face. My voice broke. "That is not true."

"Then admit it," He took a step closer. "Admit what you did was wrong."

More tears. A sob I was barely keeping at bay. "I did what I had to to keep him safe."

Eli's shoulders lowered, his eyes closing as he shook his head. A few tears of his own finally spilled over. "I have defended you from the beginning," His voice trembled. "I know what your intentions were - I know how much you care about your family." His eyes lifted to mine. "But that doesn't make what you did okay."

"You're acting like I wanted to do this!" I exploded. "All of you are! Like I wanted to push my little brother away. Do you have any idea what it was like for me? Do you have any idea how it felt to have to carry on without him?"

"Yes," Eli snapped. "I do. I watched it eat away at you every day, but you know, I felt it too. Next to Steve, Krel is -" He choked. "- was my best friend. I care about him, too."

"Then why can't you understand this?" I pleaded.

"Why can't you?"

My face plummeted into my hands, the sobs I was leaving trapped in my chest clawing inside me. I couldn't take this anymore. Going around and around, a cycle that was eating me from the inside out. I couldn't keep going into this ring. Where nobody wins and everybody breaks. I couldn't do this any longer. I couldn't.

"Just tell me what happened next," Eli finally said. "Tell me what happened."

I pried my face up from my hands, almost watching him through my fingers. It took all my strength to swallow the pain, knowing it would come roaring back later. But for now, I had to talk. I had to function. Eli deserved at least that.

"I'm not really sure what happened next." My arms went over my stomach, trying to hold myself together. "He just . . . started fighting me."

Eli's brows came together. "Fighting you? Like, when you guys were rolling down the hill?"

I shook my head. "With his mind. He made it harder for me to take his memories. It felt like we were playing tug of war with them. Like he ripped them out of my hands."

"Is that . . ." He stared at me. "Is that even possible?"

I just lowered my eyes.

"Has that ever happened before?"

"No," I whispered. "Never."

There were several beats of silence.

"You know, Aja, you're really smart," Eli said. I couldn't look at him. "You really are."

I opened my mouth to reply, but he cut me off.

"So it baffles me that you can be this stupid."

He turned on his heel, his footsteps echoing in the small room as he disappeared. I didn't move after him. I didn't move at all. Staring down at the threadbare carpet instead. Like that would somehow make this hurt any less.

When I finally had the courage to walk out again, everyone was crowded behind the final bookshelf.

It was some kind of sitting area, with several couches and chairs across a colorful, checkered carpet. A TV set atop a console was still humming the theme song of some video game - something to do with cats and sushi, while a large computer sat across from it. A computer everyone was settled around.

"Hands off my keyboard," The smoker from New York remarked, shoving Krel aside. He saw me, but pretended not to.

I pretended not to care.

Steve reached forward to lay an arm around me, but I was too stiff to lean into him. So I ducked away instead, ignoring the pained look in his eyes. Right now, all I could focus on was the task at hand. Unattached. Professional.

I could do that.

"Cut it out, NotEnrique," Claire rolled her eyes. "It's his flash drive, he can upload it himself."

I raised my chin to peek over Toby's head, my stomach knotting with anticipation. The flash drive. The intel all of this had been over. We were finally getting to see it.

Shooting the drunk science project a glare, Krel bent over the keyboard and slid the drive into a slot at the edge of the computer. It took a moment for the files to appear, but once they did, there was almost too many to count.

"How much of this did you download?" Toby asked.

"I didn't have time to look through everything," Krel replied. "So I downloaded as much as I could. I was able to get a look at it before I ended up off the grid . . ." His voice trailed off, the mouse clicking and dragging the files into different sections.

"That mean you know which ones we're lookin' for?" NotEnrique began sucking at his bottle - water bottle - again.

Krel gave him a sideways glance. "Yes, these four."

A double click and the files opened, revealing pages of material. Articles. Graphs. Patterns of numbers going up and down the screen. It took me a moment to realize just what I was looking at.

"So it is true," Blinky said, coming to stand behind me. "This is the cure for Psi. It's possible."

"Yes," Suddenly, Krel's voice faltered. "But . . . it's incomplete."

"Incomplete?" Jim leaned his hands on the desk. "How can you be sure?"

"These four files are linked," Krel said. "They have the same origin. But this one -" He opened it, revealing a blank page. "- doesn't exist anymore."

"Someone wiped it before you got to it," NotEnrique reclined in his swivel chair. "Funny."

Claire shot him a look. "How is that funny?"

"Do you have any idea what might've been wiped?" Eli asked.

"Judging by all the other information we have," Krel made a show of clicking through the files. "Most of these are scans from a paper format. You can see some of it has been cut off." He ran his finger along one of the images, showing the edge of . . . another graph?

"What's missing," Krel said, "is the charts."

Jim's face went grave. "The proof."

"Without it," Krel glanced back at us, "there is no cure."

A weight dropped in my chest and tore straight down to my toes. "Wh-what?" I sputtered out. My voice sounded so small suddenly.

Krel gave me a sarcastic shrug. He might as well have punched me. Again.

"What a minute," Eli stepped forward. "So you haven't had the cure this whole time?"

Krel turned back to the screen. "Sorry to disappoint."

But I could tell he wasn't.

"What the hell are we supposed to do now?" I threw up my hands. "We were banking on that being the cure!"

"Well too bad," Krel shot back. "And not my problem. Figure it out."

I blew a hot breath out my nose, ready to charge before Steve grabbed my arm.

"Kay, guys," He held out a pacifying hand between us. "Maybe there's a way we can trace it or something, right?"

"Yeah," Claire's head picked up. "Wasn't most of this from your parents?"

NotEnrique's lips smacked off the top of the bottle. "Your old man did this?"

"Most of it, yes, but not the charts." Krel turned back to the screen, pointing to a piece of fine print in the corner. "The only creditor put here is someone called the Professor. Whatever that means."

Eli and I locked eyes.

"Say that again," He said.

Krel looked back. "The Professor? What? You know them?"

"Do the files have code names?" I asked.

"Um," Krel tapped the keyboard several times. "They did, before I -"

"Move aside, amateur." NotEnrique kicked his chair in front of the computer, knocking Krel to the left. He was typing madly before any of us could protest.

"What are you doing?" Krel snapped, though still curiously examining the screen.

"Reversing the downloading process in the coding to revert it into its original formatting style."

Krel narrowed his eyes. "That's impossible -"

"Not," NotEnrique had his tongue out, "if you do it right."

Krel glanced back at Jim for an explanation, but it was Claire that ended up speaking. "Something they did to him in the lab," She said. "Gave him super intelligence. Not quite like Eli's, but something similar."

"Hidden talents," The boy smirked, then with one last click of the keyboard, the page refreshed, and a slightly altered version of the intel appeared. "So the code name of the missing file was . . . yada, yada, yada . . . Lightning In A Bottle. That mean anything to you, sparkles?"

Everyone in the room went stock stiff.

"Lightning In A Bottle?" Jim said it very slowly. "You're sure that's it?"

He pointed to the screen. "You can read, can't you tin man?"

Claire was scrolling madly through her phone, finally stopping to stare at the result on her screen. The last item Merlin had sent them to look for.

"Captain Crazy-Armor sent us after the cure for Psi?" Toby threw up his hands. "And we didn't even know?"

"The League already knew about all of this," I tore my fingers through my hair, shaking my head. "Eli, we . . . this Op was nothing but a wild goose chase. There is no cure. There's no swaying the senior staff. There's - there's -" My back hit the shelf, my hands going over my face. "There's no cure."

The beats of silence that followed weren't true silence. Heavy sighs. Shuffling of feet. The clearing of throats to prevent tears. The sound of hands going over faces. The sound of crushed hopes.

"Maybe there is."

I dug my fingernails into my scalp. "Steve -"

"Hear me out." The tone of his voice made me look up. Slow and steady. So sure of himself. "If the League knows the Professor guy, than they have pieces of the puzzle we don't."

"And we have pieces they don't," Eli muttered under his breath.

"Exactly," Steve said. "This wasn't for nothing, Aja. We have a part of the cure - most of it. We just need to complete it. And now, we know where to look."

"But they don't have it -"

"But they know the Professor," Steve corrected. "If he's got a code name like that, then he must've been League at some point. That's probably how he got involved with your parents."

"If we find out who he is," Eli said. "Then we can get the information he found. You could even pull it out of his head if you had to."

"Right," Krel muttered at the computer. "Because you're so great at pulling things out of people's heads."

I went rigid.

The comment wasn't loud enough to count as talking, but everyone still heard it. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Eli and Steve were glaring holes into Krel's side while he pretended to be very focused on the monitor. Each of the Trollhunters looked ready to retort something, but I'd had enough of this for one day.

"Maybe that could work," I forced myself to say. "Maybe. But how would we even do it?"

Eli hesitated. "We were going back to HQ anyway, all the intel we need is there."

Jim stood from where he was leaning against the desk. "You'll need help getting past security."

"And hacking the computer database," Eli gave NotEnrique a pointed look. "You in?"

The boy didn't move a muscle, looking very unimpressed as he downed the remnants of his bottle. Claire shot him a hard glare.

"Fine," He groaned.

I exhaled heavily, still shaking my head. "They called the Professor a lost cause. How will that be any different for us?"

"Again," Eli was almost smiling, "we have information they don't. And abilities they don't. We can find this guy's old colleagues -"

"We can get information from them," I finished for him. "Information the League couldn't."

"Like a puppet master," Krel mumbled.

That comment dug deeper. Stung deeper. It made something hot snap in my chest.

"If you have something to say," I snapped at him. "Look me in the eye when you do it."

Krel lifted his head, leveling his gaze with me. "Puppet master."

Put simply, I'd had enough.

Next thing I knew, the whole world was a blur as my fist collided with Krel's jaw, knocking the two of us over the surface of the desk. I'd barely had time to pull back for a second strike when an invisible force locked around my core and ripped me back, sailing me through the air until my back hit Steve's chest and his arms closed around my waist.

It took both Eli and Toby to hold Krel back as Steve dragged me from the room, both of us screaming and cursing at each other. I kicked and bucked in his hold until he finally released me on the front steps. I stumbled from the force of my own feet, landing hard on the cracked concrete.

"Ow!" I cried. "What the hell, Steve?"

"You're asking me that question?"

"You pushed me!"

"Did not!" He pointed at the ground. "You tripped."

I growled through gritted teeth, pushing back to my feet and shoving past him to the door. But he managed to side step my attempt and grab me by the shoulders.

I jerked back. "Don't touch me."

"You need to relax, okay?" He said. "Let's just go for a walk."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Aja," He blocked my way to the door. "The past few weeks have been hell and back for everyone, the last thing we need is you and Krel at each other's throats."

"I'm not the one throwing insults," I hissed.

"No, but you are throwing punches."

He tried to reach for me again, but I ripped away. "I said not to touch me!"

Steve let out a heavy sigh. "Angel -"

"Don't call me that!"

I might as well have slapped him. That shock in his face, the flinch in his shoulders, even the grimace of his mouth; it was enough for my anger to lose its fire. My eyes fell to the ground.

Steve took a deep breath. "Did you really mean that?"

"No," I whispered.

His hands slid into my own, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Then let's go on a walk. Please, Aja."

I sighed, then nodded.

We heard shouting coming from inside the library on our way down the steps. I glanced over my shoulder on instinct, but Steve kept a firm hand on the small of my back, guiding me away from the sound. Even when we could both hear my name being shouted over and over.

"I used to go on walks like this all the time," Steve whispered, if for nothing else, to distract from the voices fading in the distance. "Whenever I couldn't deal anymore. Some school counselor told me to try it, but I thought it was bullshit until I finally did."

I only hummed in response.

We walked along the snowy sidewalk, watching the morning sunlight reflect off it like glitter. My coat glittered that way, too. By the time we reached the end of the street, I felt the rest of the heat in my chest deflate. I was just tired now. In every sense of the word.

Realizing it, Steve lowered the two of us down onto the edge of the curb.

"You know what the worst thing is?" I asked.

Steve didn't guess.

"Krel was more than just my brother, he was my best friend." I drew my knees to my chest. "He knows how to hit where it hurts."

Steve reach an arm around me, gently rubbing my arm. "So do you."

I didn't have to ask to know he was talking about yesterday morning, when I'd made that remark about Krel's team. I knew how sensitive that nerve was, and I had sledgehammered it anyway. The weight of the guilt alone made me nauseous.

I buried my face in my arms. "I don't know what to do."

"Just . . . give him some time," He replied after a moment. "Yes, he's mad at you. And yes, he kinda has a right to be - but you're still family. He just needs time. He'll come around."

"I ruined him, Steve." Tears glazed over my eyes. "I hurt him in a way I didn't even know I could."

"He's still your brother," He promised me. "Let's just focus on getting those chart things, okay? That's first priority right now. You guys can figure this out later."

I shrugged.

"It'll work, Aja," He said. "We can still find the cure. We just need to stay together."

My voice was so small when I spoke. "I guess."

I didn't know how to explain to him how impossible staying together seemed. Not if he didn't already see it.


	27. 27

**Because Where Else Would You Find A Royal Pain?**

"So this 'Zadra' lady," Toby said, examining my Chatter. "She wants us to meet her for what again?"

"We're not really sure," Eli replied, taking the Chatter back up to the passenger seat he was sitting in. "But she's in on our Op. She's the one who sent us out on it. I have a feeling she'll want to help us get back to California."

"It is quite the road trip," Jim remarked. "We could use all the help we can get."

I shook my head from behind the wheel, veering down the snowy roads as we skirted Nashville. "It still doesn't feel right," I said. "For her to come all the way out to meet us? It can't be good news."

There was a shift in the car behind me, the shuffling of people moving in their seats. No one said it, but everyone was thinking it. We weren't sure how much more bad news we could take.

"Can you pull over?" NotEnrique was strewn out on the floor between the driver and passenger seat. "I gotta pee."

Claire leaned forward to look at him. "You just went. Five minutes ago."

He shrugged, sucking on his bottle again. "Small bladder. Sorry."

"Maybe if you could put down the bottle . . ." Toby started.

NotEnrique laughed. "You wouldn't like me sober, sweater vest."

"That's funny," He replied. "Cause I don't like you ever."

"Don't worry," I called over my shoulder. "It won't be much longer."

"How long is 'not much longer'?" NotEnrique propped himself up on my seat. "Cause I really gotta go."

Eli examined the Chatter again. "Should be just up the next bend."

"Wait, so I gotta know," Darci said, turning to look at Krel. I could see just the corner of his face in the rearview mirror, enough to see the new bruise he was sporting on the right side of his jaw. That, and the fuzzy fawn fur draped over his lap. "Is Zadra your aunt or not?"

Krel looked at her for a moment, his hand scratching behind Luug's ears. "Close enough."

"Is she . . ." Toby gave me a nervous glance, "gonna be happy that we came with you?"

"Oh, she'll be furious," Krel smirked, leaning over the back of the bench. "She'll interrogate you for hours, make you climb ropes, and have you run laps."

Toby sounded like he was having an asthma attack.

"Ha, ha," Eli deadpanned. "Very funny."

Toby punched Krel's arm over the head rest, shooting him a hard glare. But Krel laughed along with Steve and Darci anyway. Even Jim was hiding his own giggles. NotEnrique put his feet up on Claire's lap as he snickered.

It made me smile to hear them go back and forth. To know Krel was warming up to them again. At least a little.

"Oh, make a turn up here." Eli leaned forward, pointing along the road. "We're almost there."

"Good," NotEnrique said from the floor. "I'm 'bout to burst over here."

Claire cringed. "TMI."

His water bottle made a whirring sound as he turned it upside down. "That's what I'm here for."

Bringing the car over the turnabout, we ended up on the dark main street of yet another abandoned town, the setting sun to our left. If it weren't for all the snow, it would've reminded me of the ghost town in Arizona where I had my first driving lesson.

God, so much has changed since then. Just thinking about it made something in my chest sink. I didn't realize the car was slowing until Eli tapped my shoulder.

"One more turn."

Rounding yet another curb caked with snow, we landed at the center of a parking lot. The building at the face of it was just as rusted out as everything else. But the sign above it still showed off its muted colors proudly.

"Dairy Queen," Darci read aloud. She looked at me through the mirror. "You're serious."

Ei undid his seat belt. "What were you expecting? Some dark, creepy warehouse from out of a horror movie?"

"More like out of a cool sci-fi movie," She replied.

"Our lives would make a pretty good sci-fi movie," Toby said. "Don't you think?"

"Sure," Krel shrugged. "And we could call it 'what are the odds?'."

"Why would we call it that?"

"Because what are the odds of bumping into your friends from middle school over and over and over again."

Eli leaned over the chair to see him. "That is an excellent point."

Good thing I do so well against astronomical odds, I thought, but couldn't bring myself to say out loud. I wonder if Krel was thinking it, too. Or maybe his mind was too ruined to recall the joke at all.

I cleared my throat.

"Why don't you and I go in first?" I said to Eli. "Just . . . in case."

He hesitated, the humor from before falling from his eyes. "Yeah, okay."

I drew my serrator from the waistband of my pants, checking to make sure it was loaded.

"If you're not back out here in five minutes," Steve said. "We're coming in after you."

"Fair enough," Eli said. And we stepped out.

The night air was brisk, heavy with the scent of exhaust and corroding metal. The snow crunched beneath our feet, making me cringe and the very obvious footprints we were leaving behind. I shook off the dread in my chest, the paranoia prickling on the back of my neck, and pushed forward to the entrance.

"Let's just get this over with," I muttered under my breath.

Eli shot me a sideways glance.

I ignored it.

The glass side door leading in was ajar against the jam, forcing us to pry it open rather than swing it. The blue and red tiles beneath us were smeared with dirt and dust, bits of snow blown across it from the broken windows.

It looked like the restaurant had rotted into nothing but a skeleton. The silver shelves and counter were coated with rust, some even caved in from some invisible pressure. Utensils and paper cups were scattered between the overturned tables. The posters on the wall had lost almost all their color to the dust.

"This is just," Eli started, "depressing."

I was beginning to regret bringing a flashlight until a dim glow at the back of the shop caught my eye. Behind the counter, into what I assumed was the kitchen. Someone was there.

My hand was clammy went it closed around my serrator a second time. Eli and I exchanged a nod, creeping around the counter to the silver swinging door that lead into the kitchen.

Easing the door open, I realized the source of the light was coming from a kerosene lamp set on another stainless steel countertop across the room. From around the corner, I could see a chair set in front of it, someone sitting there with a book on their lap.

I took another step forward, carefully rounding the corner. ". . . Zadra?"

The book closed. The person rose to their feet. It wasn't Zadra. I nearly dropped my serrator all together.

"Seamus."

He smiled, leaning back leisurely against the countertop, the book still in his hands. The Collected Works of Friedrich Nietzsche. Whoever the hell that is.

"Been a while, Tarron," He said, eyes going from me to Eli. "Pepperjack. Good to know you're still alive."

Eli glowered. "Good to know you're still an asshole."

I aimed my serrator. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He hopped onto the counter behind him. "I came to talk."

I scrunched up my eyebrows. "About what?"

"Wait a minute," Eli said. "You - you hacked our Chatter. Zadra never called us here, it was you!" He fished the device out of his pocket. "Chatter's are designed to be untappable, how did you -?"

"Let's just say," Seamus tilted his head innocently. "You aren't the only ones with friends in the League."

"Friends?" I adjusted my hold on the gun. "Or puppets?"

He shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"What are you doing here?" My voice raised, cracking like a whip. "You have approximately three seconds before my patience runs out and I do what I should've done a long time ago."

Seamus scoffed, his grin curling wider. "You're not going to shoot me."

"You really think now is a good time to test me?"

"Clearly, you don't know how to bargain." He set the book down, leaning back on his palms. "If I talk, I die. And if I don't, I die. What's in it for me?"

"But you're not here to bargain," Eli folded his arms, "are you? You brought us here. You need something from us."

I cocked the serrator. "You know about the flash drive."

"Put it down, Aja." Seamus stepped off the counter, his voice taking on different tone. "Put it down."

The attack came much more gently than I was expecting. Like prodding only the pads of his fingers against the walls of my mind. I shoved him back all too easily, a lesson in underestimating me.

"Nice try," I spat. "Now stay where you -"

Eli lurched into my side, his hands closing around the serrator and ripping it from my grasp. I shrieked, my mind whirring to try and process what had just happened. But before I could dive for the weapon again, Eli's elbow jerked, and the barrel pressed up under his chin.

He crashed into another counter, his whole body trembling as he used his free hand to tear at the wrist holding the gun. He tried opening his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse whimper.

My head whipped back towards Seamus, thrusting an attack on his mind. I could break the connection. I could get him away from Eli -

"You sure that's a good idea?" The force of him shoving me out sent a prick of pain through my temples. "You really think you can get me out before I can get him to fire?"

I dug my fingernails into my palms. As much as it stung, I knew he was right. And the risk to prove him wrong was not worth Eli's life.

But the others, they were coming. Steve and Jim, Claire and Darci, Toby and Krel. A few more minutes and they'd be busting through the door. We could overwhelm him, take back the other hand.

I just had to be patient.

"See, this?" Seamus gestured before us. "This is how you bargain. You give me what I want, and I'll give you back what you want." He pointed a lazy finger towards Eli.

My eyes glanced at him too, almost involuntarily. And just in time to watch his knobby knees give out under the pressure, knocking his head hard against the counter, pinned there by the gun.

Heat exploded in my chest but I forced it down. I could do this. I could wait.

"What is it that you want?" I asked, gritting my teeth.

Seamus lowered his eyebrows. "Take a guess."

I fought a grin. "I don't have the flash drive."

"But you can get it," He took a step forward, "can't you?"

"Why do you want it?" I threw back. "What are you planning with it?"

"I'm not planning anything with it." He leaned leisurely against the counter. "I'm just the messenger boy, remember?"

I blew a hot breath out my nose. "Morgana."

"Let's make this easy, Tarron," He said. "You give me the flash drive, and I'll give you your friend back - in one piece."

Eli began dragging his heels across the floor, trying to push himself to his feet. His jaw was clenched so hard his teeth ground. His knuckles were white as they clawed at his wrist. He was sweating.

"I told you," I said. "I don't have it."

His eyes narrowed. "Then who does?"

I didn't answer, only letting a hint of a smile creep up my face. That was the moment he realized his mistake. He forgot people like me couldn't help but travel in packs.

"Aja?" Steve's voice echoed from the door, followed by the sounds of dozens of footsteps.

Seamus's eyes darted to the kitchen's opening, wide with fury and shock. That split second of distraction was my only window of attack. So I leapt on it.

Throwing out both hands, I tore into his mind, ripping the strings that tied him to Eli. Plucking them out in a way that made him howl. Beside me, Eli began gulping at the air, my serrator sent skidding across the tiles to my feet. I swiped it up without hesitation.

"You . . ." Eli panted, prying himself up on the edge of the counter. "You asshole."

With a cry he launched himself forward, me catching him around the waist before he could get any closer to Seamus. But I didn't bother covering his mouth.

"You lying, psychotic, sadistic asshole!"

"Sadistic," Seamus tilted his head, wiping the blood from his nose. "That's a new one."

Steve near burst through the entryway, his eyes and hands ready for a fight after hearing Eli's shouts. Everyone else trickled in behind him, though I did notice NotEnrique was missing.

"Hey guys," I said. "Look who hacked my Chatter."

Steve nearly stumbled back at the sight of Seamus, Jim, Claire, and Toby having an all too similar reaction. His eyes darted from face to face, knowing it was too many minds for even him. Knowing he was trapped. But I didn't see an ounce of regret until Krel stepped in, Luug in his arms.

All the color drained from both faces as they locked eyes. At first, it was only shock that was between them. Curiosity. Then a harsh wariness. Luug ducked against Krel's collar as if to hide from it.

When Krel spoke, it was softer than I expected. "The hell are you doing here?"

"He's after the flash drive," Eli growled, tearing out of my hold. "The bastard's planning on handing it over to Morgana."

Jim's brows pinched together, and in turn made mine do the same. This was supposed to make perfect sense to him. Why did he look so confused?

"Morgana?" He asked. "But you haven't been involved with Morgana for months."

My head whipped back to Claire for confirmation. "He hasn't?"

She shook her head. "From the amount of crap we've taken from that lady, we would've known."

"Yeah," Steve said. "You went off the grid, buttsnack."

"Morgana kicked you out," Toby stabbed a finger at him. "Now you're trying to buy your way back on the team!"

"What can I say?" Seamus gave us a tight smile. "Desperate times, desperate measures."

"Then how did you know the flash drive exists?" Krel stepped forward. "How did you know I'm the one that found it?"

Seamus's smile fell. A flicker of fear appeared in his eyes.

"He has connections with the League -" I started.

"That doesn't explain how he knew about the flash drive," Eli said. "The report Zadra gave only said classified intel was lost, not a cure for Psi."

Seamus's eyes hardened.

"How did you know about the flash drive?" I raised my serrator once again. "How did you know it was connected to us?"

He actually had the gall to smile. "Tarron -"

"How," I hissed. "Did you. Know."

He swallowed. But then his facade pulled back together. "You should be more concerned with what I know happened at HQ."

Something inside me twisted. Eli's eyes blew wide. Behind me, Luug yelped from Krel holding him too tight.

Eli gulped. "What happened?"

"You took too long," He said, looking all too pleased. "Half of the senior staff is dead. Any other agents who weren't a hundred percent on board - and still alive - were carted off to God knows where."

Tears stung in my eyes, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. Bile rose bitter in my mouth. My hand trembled around the serrator.

"Just imagine where your babysitters have been shipped off to now."

"Shut up," I growled.

"You know," He shrugged, "assuming they survived the purge of all . . . useless agents."

"I said shut up!" I screamed, thrusting a step forward. Seamus flinched back.

Tears raked down my face. My breath came in raw, ragged gasps. Suddenly there was a bomb in my chest, and I was struggling to keep it from exploding. As much as I tried to shove their faces out, Zadra and Varvatos flashed in my mind.

We will be here upon your return.

They couldn't be gone. Zadra and Varvatos were invincible - they always had been. They had to - they couldn't be -

"How do we know you're not lying?" Krel asked. When I turned, I saw tears going down his face too.

Seamus's face went soft. "Do I have a reason to?"

"You're not lying," I spat. "You're stalling. Now answer the damn question before I blow your head off!"

"Oh come on, Tarron," He scoffed. "We both know you're not gonna shoot me."

I pulled the trigger.

A splatter of red burst from his shoulder, forcing his entire body back as he crashed into the counter. His shriek echoed across the tiles, the drawers lining the walls shuddered as he tumbled to his knees. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Krel turn away, Luug snuggling under his chin for comfort.

Seamus's right hand was clamped over the crimson wound, groans and growls biting through his gritted teeth as he fought to stop trembling. The breaths coming through his nose were deep and angry. When his eyes finally raised to mine again, they were full of fire.

"Okay . . ." He hissed.

I chambered another bullet. "Do not test me again."

"I'd recommend you start talking, buddy." Toby folded his arms. "Before you lose a whole arm."

Seamus ground his teeth, his ragged breathing making his back rise and fall unnaturally. I waited for his mouth to open. For him to finally realize that he was cornered. There was no mind-melding his way out of this one. But his jaw remained stubbornly wound shut.

Beside me, Eli scoffed.

"I knew it," He said, even laughing a little. "Man, I knew I had you figured out."

We all looked at him, watching his exhausted yet cocky grin grow. Seamus was throwing him a glare that looked somewhere between doubtful and murderous. Whichever it was, Eli didn't seem to care.

"Peppers," Steve spread his hands. "What are you talking about?"

"Seamus was at Leda Corp," Eli announced. "One of the experiments. Just like me."

There was no air left in the room. No movement. No sound.

Krel was the first to ask: "What?"

"That's how he knows," Eli threw up an arm. "That's how he knows about everything. From the Darklands to the Caledonia breakout to the goddamn flash drive. Because he was at the center of it all."

Seamus's glare had turned into something I didn't even recognize. Something barbaric and brutal. Like a caged, tormented animal. Suddenly, I was sick to the pit of my stomach.

"You know, the doctors who worked on me? They used to talk about an Orange they had," Eli said. "The son of some high and mighty scientist that worked there. They said he had a bad habit of getting information out of people's heads. That he was slippery."

Seamus had a sheen layer of tears over his eyes, but it only made him all the more terrifying.

"Shut your mouth," He growled, so low it was a whisper, "or, I promise, you will live to regret it."

Eli obeyed, but didn't look any less satisfied. I was finding it very hard not to keel over and vomit across the tiles. I remember Seamus's father. I remember that he had a very well paying job in some scientific field. I remember how crude he was.

But handing his own son over for experiments? Conducting them?

Was anyone really that cruel?

"Seamus, you . . ." I swallowed. "You already know what's on the flash drive, don't you?"

"But do you?" His shoulders rose, revealing the trail of blood down his torso. "Do any of you have any idea what you've found? What will happen when you release that to the public?"

"We can cure them," I said. "We can cure us. We can get our lives back -"

His laughter was deep and hoarse. Like his vocal cords had already been sliced. "Once again, Tarron, you've proven how desperately naive you are."

As much as the words burned, I didn't have a reply.

"You can't cure Psi," Seamus spat. "Because to them, it's not the disease. The disease is us."

My mouth went dry.

"You honestly think they are ever going to give up the controls?" He sputtered out another laugh. "You think the ones that started all of this will just let go? I told you we were given these gifts for a reason, to put every bloodthirsty sociopath in the place that they belong. So doing this? Handing away our only upper hand? You might as well put a collar around your neck, because the second your power goes away, they own you."

"It doesn't have to be like that," I blurted.

"But it is!" His voice raised to a shout, making me flinch. "Isn't it? Every one of you knows it!"

Krel took a hesitant step forward. "Seamus -"

"Do you want to know what they do once they have control?" Seamus's eyes burned into me. "To the ones like us? Do you want to know what they'll do once they own you again?"

The flood of memories hit me like a tsunami, searing like fire across my brain as it pulled me under. A pinching muzzle, still hot from sterilization. Blinding lights. Watching syringe after syringe drain into my arm. Large hands forcing me down onto a table.

Restraints bruising and rubbing me raw. The horrible crackle of electricity. The searing shocks that pumped down my spine, spreading through me like hot needles under my skin. Being so deep under your own mind, you don't know the difference between dream and reality any longer. And you don't want to.

Boiling humiliation. Smoldering hate. Pain and heat that twisted and rose inside me like torture. Again, the doctors say. Again, again, again. Screaming, gasping, sobbing, bleeding -

No more, please, I can't take anymore. Just let me die. Please, Dad, let me die.

They didn't care.

But that didn't mean they stopped talking. If I tried hard enough, their voices could cut over the pain, and I could hold onto it. A tether to reality. Until it was more than that.

They were always too careless to be wary of a child. Too unguarded. Too easy. The river of memories was a strong as ever, but strain passed it and there was a goldmine to be found. Dig long enough, and it was one step closer to freedom.

Trembling, puppeteered hands undoing my restraints. Doctors injecting themselves with their own serums, their bodies jerking and foaming before collapsing. Smashed moniters. Stolen information. A man in a lab coat with a white, handlebar mustache, holding out his hands to pacify as he stumbled back.

"Wait, Seamus," His mouth said. "No, don't -"

Then the man was gone, and everything was gone. Broken glass and broken cement and flames licking up a plastered wall. The bottoms of my feet stinging as I ran away. The wind chilling to the bone. They're coming - I can't stop, they're coming. Where do I go? Where do I -

A woman's face. Red hair. Green eyes. Offering me her hand.

I felt my back hit the wall, the scraping sound of falling utensils barely in the back of my mind. Hot blood was running from my nose and my ears. The pain was welling up, not just a memory. Something made especially for me.

And I knew I was the only one who could stop it.

Throwing out my hand, I flattened my palm and then clawed in my fingers, taking Seamus's strings into a vice grip. The waves finally stopped, the room around me becoming clear again. I could feel the floor beneath me. The faded colors of the posters on the wall. The blurry figures of the people around me.

Seamus jolted forward in my hold, falling onto his good arm, the other reaching hesitantly up to his throat. When he looked at me, he grinned.

"Someone's been practicing."

I closed my fist, wrenching it to the side and bringing Seamus's head with it. His temple slammed into the aluminum counter hard enough for it to ring. He crumpled to the floor in a bloody heap.

I was gasping at the dry air, my knees giving out from beneath me as I slid down to the floor. My hands were trembling and I couldn't get them to stop. I couldn't look at him, but I couldn't look away. I couldn't stop seeing - I couldn't stop feeling it. As if he'd left a ghost inside me.

Steve knelt at my side, but he didn't have the chance to speak before a pair of quick footsteps turned our attention to the entryway. In it, appeared NotEnrique, still fumbling with the fly of his pants.

"So," He clapped his hands. "What'd I miss?"


	28. 28

**Eavesdropping 101**

**(A/N): this chapter was EXHAUSTING to edit**

**in case anyone was wondering**

It took about ten minutes for us to realize that Seamus hadn't driven here. There was no car in the parking lot, or anywhere else close by. Of course, with his power, he wouldn't need to drive. That's when I noticed the airport pamphlet sticking out of his pocket.

Dumping Seamus in the trunk, we started off towards the airport at the edge of town. It was just as abandoned as everything else, but there was still a runway.

Jim ended up taking my spot as driver, knowing I was in no condition to operate the vehicle. Steve kept trying to ask me questions, but I could barely hear them, so I only shook my head.

I curled up in Jim's spot beside Claire in the car, tucking my hands under my arms to hide the way they shook. With a small yelp, Luug leapt from Krel's arms and climbed over the seats to rest on my lap. It ached to smile, so I buried my face in his soft fur instead. He let out a soft whine, jumping his front paws onto my shoulders to lick away the last of my tears.

The airport was as empty and sad as the rest of the town, old airliners left to rot side by side in the hangar. But there was one, hidden at the edge of the runway, that was brand new.

"A private jet?" Toby gasped. "Awesome-sauce!"

Steve and Claire were using their abilities to drag Seamus across the cement ground, leaving a smudge of blood every few feet. Krel was trying his very best to avoid watching.

"We need to clean his shoulder," He finally said.

"I can do it on the plane," Jim replied. "I'm sure they have a first aid kit on board."

I was the first to climb on the aircraft, stepping into a long, well furnished room. Leather chairs and couches lined the walls, all completed with decorative pillows. The carpet was lush and thick. Several TV screens hung on the wall. A table set with chocolates and wine sat beside an ice chest.

But all I cared about was the entryway to the cockpit.

Rounding the corner, I saw a man sitting in the pilot's seat, staring blankly forward as he waited for yet another command. Thanks to Seamus, his mind was melded enough for me to slip in easily, seeing the illusion already put there. He was transporting a congressman, someone who preferred to remain anonymous and paid handsomely.

I only tweaked the story slightly, reminding him that the congressman was now picking up a few colleagues and we were all going back to LA, California. Why? He didn't care. He was getting paid enough not to.

By the time I came back out, Steve and Claire were lifting Seamus over the carpet towards a separate room in the back. There wasn't a door closing it off, just another pair of overlapping walls like in the cockpit. It was small but neat, a bed with crisp sheets and two more leather chairs with a table between them. Also, another ice chest in the corner.

Who actually had the money for these kinds of things anymore?

I stayed in the doorway as I watched them lower him down onto the bed, a splotch of red appearing very quickly on the sheets. Eli came to stand behind me as Jim cut open Seamus's shirt with the tip of his sword, Toby coming forward with the first aid kit.

Steve and Claire ushered us back to keep from crowding the room. But Krel stayed, his hands firmly on Seamus's shoulders to hold him in place. Even if they didn't need to be.

I lowered myself into one of the chairs in the main room, half-listening to the pilot come on the intercom to announce takeoff. I turned in the seat, pulling my knees closer as Luug padded forward to snuggle on my stomach. My hand reached up to stroke the soft fur, my mind absently falling back into the fog.

_The second your power goes away, they own you._

I closed my eyes, imagining sunshine. There was nothing in my head but sunshine.

_Do you want to know what they'll do once they own you again?_

The sunshine was suddenly sterile lights. Steel reflecting it. Shocks. Syringes. Screaming -

My eyes opened, a sharp breath burning through my nose. Luug began whimpering again, and I realized I was digging my nails into him.

Steve rested a hand on my shoulder. I didn't see why until I saw the wet wipe in his hands, probably taken from the first aid kit. It took it from him, absently scrubbing away the blood still caked under my nose and ears.

"You should rest," He said.

I shook my head.

Jim and Toby walked down through the room, Toby immediately going to Darci to help her raid the chocolate stash.

"He's going to be fine," Jim announced. "He's waking up, so he might be a little grumpy, but he's not gonna die."

Of course he's not going to die, I thought. I know how to shoot.

"Where's Krel?"

Everyone seemed to stop. Every pair of eyes in the room glanced back at me. Jim's brows rose a little, a gentle sympathy in his eyes. It wasn't until then that I realized I hadn't spoken a single word since I'd rendered Seamus unconscious.

"He's back there with Seamus," Jim finally answered. "In case he needs something."

I wasn't sure what to feel about that.

"Alone?"

"Seamus is way too out of it to do any damage," He said. "Besides, he knows all of us are out here if he tries anything."

I started to sit up. "It's not a good idea, Jim -"

Steve caught my shoulder again. "It's okay, Aja. Just try to relax."

I leaned away from him, ducking into the chair to escape the feeling of being a bug under a microscope. My eyes zeroed in on the top of Luug's head. I didn't want to relax. I didn't want all of them looking at me like that. I just . . . I just . . .

"Do you need something to eat?" Jim asked.

It took me a moment to process the words. Finally, I shook my head.

"Water?"

Another shake.

"If you do, you know where to find it." With a last, gentle smile, he turned back to sit beside Claire.

I leaned back in the seat, looking down at Luug again. Just watching my hand smooth over the fur there. That's all I wanted to focus on. All I wanted to see.

"Are we not going to talk about what just happened?" Eli asked from beside me.

Toby popped another chocolate into his mouth. "You mean proving another one of your conspiracy theories?"

"I mean why I was able to prove it."

"You don't think it could really happen," Steve swallowed, "do you? What Seamus said?"

The moment everyone understood was the moment the heaviness dropped. I continued to watch my hand as it petted Luug. Watching the bend in the fur. The stifled transition from white to fawn. His big, brown, blinking eyes.

"There are a million things that could happen," Claire spoke up. "But don't you think we still have a chance?"

"Even if we do, we can't just disregard Seamus's side of the story," Eli replied. "When we were with the League, some of the agents, they treated us like we were the disease. Not like it was something that happened to us. Seamus was right, at least about that."

"Seamus also betrayed his closest friends," Darci said. "He's not right about everything."

"Doesn't make him wrong about this," Steve said, lowering himself onto a chair. "If you think about it, every PSF in this country would go nuts over this cure. They'd use it as a leash for us, like White Noise."

"You think we shouldn't take the flash drive back to the League?" Claire asked.

"I don't know what to think," Steve threw up his hands. "I'm not a great thinker, guys."

"But you do have a point." Jim sunk onto the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look at how the world treats us now. Throwing us in camps. Turning us into soldiers. Duplicating us just to have more. Will having the cure really change that?"

No one could answer right away. I felt several pairs of eyes on me, expecting me to contribute. But I said nothing.

"Maybe not," Claire whispered. "But if it doesn't, we can."

I finally looked up.

"What do you mean?" Eli asked.

She had to take a breath. "We have the cure - most of it. And we're going to find the rest of it. Every surviving kid deserves to know what happened to them. They deserve to know why." A sheen layer a tears appeared over her eyes. "And if PSFs hold it over our heads, then we'll fight back. Just like we always have."

The silence that followed her words was a different kind of silence. Lighter. Calmer. Like a string of stress had finally dissipated.

"Claire's right," Toby pushed himself to his feet. "The game has been stacked against us from the beginning, but we've made it this far, haven't we?" Darci leaned over to knock on the wood of the table. "Even if the cure doesn't change anything, even if things never go back to normal, we never have to stop fighting. We still have a chance. Whatever happens, we should take it."

"Together," Jim added.

My eyes lowered back to my hand in Luug's fur. "Don't you ever get tired of fighting?"

I hadn't meant to say the words out loud, but that's how they came out. When I looked up, Claire's eyes were still just as cloudy as mine.

"Yeah, I do."

An image of her laying across her bed sheets at Trollmarket flashed in my mind. How she had to writhe herself awake. How she had to win a battle just to get control of her limbs again.

"That's why I rest," She said. "Something I think we all should be doing. We'll need it."

There were several nods of agreement. Conversations going quiet and pillows shuffling. The lights above us dimmed to match the starry sky outside. And everything seemed to slow down, even my hand as it ruffled Luug's fur.

_Rest_, Claire's voice said in my mind. _Rest, rest, rest._

Until finally, I did.

I don't know how long I lasted before the prick of a syringe and the sizzling _zap_ of a shock had me bursting awake. I jolted in my position, taking in a shaky, silent gasp. I had to touch my face, just to make sure the muzzle I felt there wasn't real.

The room before me was perfectly still, the starlight coming softly through the windows to illuminate it. Jim and Claire were snuggled together on the couch. Toby and Darci leaning on each other in the corner, a pile of wrappers between them.

Luug had climbed off my lap at some point to curl up at my feet, probably tired of me squeezing him too hard. Steve and Eli were sprawled out on the chairs, NotEnrique laying on another, a bit of drool coming down his chin.

It took until my eyes adjusted for me to see the golden light leaking in from the hallway behind me. I craned my neck around the back of the chair. No, not the hallway. The bedroom.

I could almost make out the soft voices coming from within it.

My fingers began twitching. My eyes refused to leave the door, noticing that it was still open a crack. I knew it was stupid. I knew it was wrong. I told myself I was only checking to make sure Krel was alright, but it only felt like an excuse. Either way, I rose to my feet.

Creeping across the carpet, I stepped easily around Luug as not to disturb him. But just as I made it around my chair, Steve shifted in his seat. I froze. But his shoulder quickly fell, his head lulling into the soft fabric as he continued snoring.

Exhaling a breath, I continued down the hall to the doorway, lowering to my knees as I came before the sliver of an opening.

"- time is it?"

That was Seamus's voice, breathy and pinched. He was in pain.

"About four," Krel's voice replied. "We'll be there soon. You need to sleep."

Seamus made a grunting noise, as if he were trying to move. "Yeah, you try sleeping with a hole in your shoulder. See how fun it is."

"For the millionth time, stop doing that. You'll only make it worse."

Panting. A gulping sound. More shifting.

"Do you understand the definition of 'stop'?"

"Why don't you sleep, wise guy?" Seamus threw back. "What are you still doing in here anyway? I thought Jim was the nurse."

"It's not nursing, it's common sense. If you and all your shifting end up reopening the wound, then we'll need to stanch it before you bleed out. Since, personally, I don't want to be the one to throw a dead body off a plane."

"Again," Seamus said. "I thought _Jim_ was the nurse."

My brows rose a little. Listening to them circle around each other was almost funny. As if it wasn't perfectly obvious why Krel had chosen to stay instead of Jim.

Neither of them spoke for a while. The silence was long enough for it to get awkward.

"So . . ." Krel started. "Where have you been?"

Seamus hesitated. "Around."

"Certainly not anywhere around New York," He replied. "Right?"

My brows drew together at Krel's tone, like he was being sarcastic. Snarky.

"Krel, I -" Seamus started, but he cut himself off.

"You what?" Krel snapped. "Don't have an excuse?"

"That's not what I'm -"

"You could've at least said goodbye. You know, instead of just letting me wake up and think you'd been abducted or something."

My lips parted in shock, a hand coming to cover my mouth. Krel was in New York? With Seamus?

_When?_

It took a moment, but Seamus responded. "I didn't think you'd care that much."

"Well," Krel gave a humorless laugh. "Believe it or not, but not everyone has as many sociopathic tendencies as you."

"Get out," Seamus growled.

"Make me."

Another grunt, then quiet but labored breathing from Seamus - and I finally realized he _couldn't_. It had been like when I was stabbed, when there was too much pain to even focus, let alone reach into a mind. But hadn't it been long enough for Seamus to clear his head? I'd been able to get into the minds of several PSFs once I'd gotten my mind cleared. What was holding Seamus back?

"What? You think you owe me or something?"

Krel scoffed. "You think I'm here because I _owe_ you? After you ditched me?"

"Then why are you here?"

There was a moment of quiet.

"Because I want to know what happened in New York," Krel finally said.

Silence.

"Nothing to say?" Krel demanded.

"What do you want me to say?"

"The truth would be nice," He snapped. "Why did you leave?"

"Why would I stay?"

I couldn't see Krel's face, but I could tell the words might as well have been a punch in the gut. The image of Krel being left to his own a second time made my heart wrench. Was it even the second time?

_How many times had it been? _

"I searched for you," Krel finally said, his voice even with something other than rage. "I tried to make sure you were okay. But you know that, don't you?"

Seamus didn't answer.

"You knew what Aja had done to me, too."

No sound. No movement.

"Why didn't you say something?" Krel's tone was soft, but still somehow cut like a blade. "Why didn't you _do_ something?"

Seamus swallowed.

"Why do you always run?"

Seamus's voice almost trembled. "Why can't you stop coming back?"

Krel's silence was more stunned than anything. "You're the one who kissed me."

"God," Seamus groaned. "You're just as bad as your sister -"

"No," Krel cut him off. "You're the one who's like her."

A prick of pain went over my heart, rushing over me like a wave. It was so thick and tangible, it made the shell of my skin tingle.

"Why does it always have to be like this with you?" He asked. "Why can't you ever say what you mean?"

"You want me to say what I mean?" Seamus's voice rose in volume. "Get out. That's what I mean. Take a damn hint and leave me alone."

"Or what?" Krel spat back. "You'll get in my head and send me to another batch of creeps? Maybe they'll finish me off this time."

Something in Seamus's tone changed, something almost hurt. "Krel -"

"Stop saying my name like that."

"Like what?"

I dared forward inch by inch, leveling my eye with the crack in the door. Seamus was sprawled across the bed, half sitting up with a bundle of gauze taped over his shoulder. His whole sleeve had been torn off to make room for the bandage.

Krel was sitting at the edge of the bed, sitting up enough to be leaning over Seamus. His side was facing me, so I could only see his profile, but it was clear enough for me to see the fiery glares they were throwing at each other. Like trying to stab someone with your eyes.

Then Seamus's eyes dropped to Krel's mouth, barely for a second, and the air between them changed.

The glares softened ever so slightly, the glowering replaced with a cautious curiosity. Krel shifted closer, Seamus in turn sitting up a bit more. Lips parted. Eyes became half lidded. Seamus's good hand crept around Krel's wrist, brushing up to his elbow as if to pull him closer.

I ducked back behind the door. This was private. Intimate. I never should've come here anyway. This was a stupid idea -

"Just go." Seamus's voice. Heavy with disappointment. "Don't come back."

Unable to resist the urge, I peeked through the crack again, seeing Krel leaned back and turned towards the door with his eyes lowered. I pulled back before he could see me.

"You really want me to leave?"

Seamus hesitated. "Yeah."

But Krel didn't move. "Is it true?" He finally asked.

Seamus let out a heavy sigh. "Just _go -"_

"Is everything Eli said true?" Krel's voice was like steel. He wasn't leaving without an answer.

But Seamus didn't have one.

"You don't have any scars."

"Not everything leaves scars, Krel." Seamus's voice was tight now, like he was holding back tears.

"I didn't mean -"

"Please just go. Now."

The second I heard Krel stand I bolted back from the door, scrambling across the carpet as delicately as I could. My feet breathed against the floor as I sprinted back through the dark. I was only halfway back to the chair when I heard the door squeak open, so I dove towards one of the couches instead, curling up in the corner of the arm.

Krel walked slowly across the carpet, more shuffling his feet than stepping. His breathing was heavier too. Pained. Or just too deep in thought.

Maybe both.

He stood still for a while, probably assessing which chair would suit him best, when I suddenly felt a dip in the couch cushions. My eyes opened almost involuntarily, seeing Krel's outline as he sat on the opposite end of the couch. It took me a moment to realize, but this was the closest he had come to me since he'd tackled me in front of the gas station.

If you didn't count when I'd tackled _him_ in the library.

My eyes had drifted into the side of the couch in thought, so I didn't notice right away when Krel turned to look at me. I didn't have time to pretend to be asleep again.

"Did I wake you?" The question was flat, emotionless. If anything, he was surprised I was still awake.

I shook my head.

With a sigh, he tilted his head back, resting it against the cushions and turning away from me. I waited for him to get up again. For him to stand and walk to one of the chairs, going right back to ignoring me. But he didn't.

"Are you okay?" I didn't mean to ask it, but the words came before I could stop them.

Krel's eyes darted to mine, giving me the same look everyone else had when I'd started speaking in front of them. It made me duck my head into the couch.

He finally nodded, whispering. "Are you?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I laid flat against the arm to face away from him. And even though the pressure in my chest didn't subside, I fell asleep as easily as I had in Trollmarket, all that time ago.


End file.
